


Roll the Bones

by Vathara



Series: Foreign xChange [3]
Category: The Sentinel (TV), Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Don't copy to another site, Magic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vathara/pseuds/Vathara
Summary: Yugi, Seto, and Ryou find chaos in Cascade, Washington.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sentinel and Yu-Gi-Oh characters belong to their respective creators. Bits adapted from the "Book of the Dead", translated by E. A. Wallis Budge. "Roll the Bones" by Rush. Story refers to events in Sentinel episodes "Trance", "Murder 101", and "Sentinel, Too"; plot and random insanity is mine. /Exchanged thoughts./

_Point Grey Cemetery_ , Yami read as he dropped inside the high stone wall. Allowed his eyes a moment to adjust to the deeper night inside these walls, looking over carved granite slabs, the forbidding marble of family tomb. _Odd houses of eternity folk have in these times. Where are the prayers and invocations? The altars for family to share bread and wine with the Justified and the gods?_

/People don't do that much these days, Yami./ Leaning against the bright wall of his soul room, Yugi Mouto let the ancient spirit control their body while he felt outward for that horrible _tearing_ in the fabric of magic. Winced, sensing the ragged edges so near. /Grandpa's going to be worried about us. We stopped the cab right in the middle of the street, he hadn't even gotten to the hotel yet-/

/He'll understand, aibou./ Yami reached out with the Millennium Puzzle's magic, listening for the moan of tormented spirits that had led them here. Midnight boots never missed a step on stone-laced ground; one advantage a dark spirit passed to its human vessel was perfect night vision.

/He'll _understand?_ "I'm sorry, Grandpa, I hear some fool toying with the Darkness and we have to go stop him, don't wait up for us?" He's going to worry himself sick!/

Stepping around a freshly mounded grave, Yami winced. /Was I that blunt, aibou?/

/...Maybe not that bad,/ Yugi admitted. /But we're not in Domino City, Yami. We're not even in Japan. This is America. Cascade, Washington State. We could get in so much trouble.../

Yami nodded, acknowledging the possibility. /Yet I sense no one else moving to thwart this evil, aibou. We _must_ act./

A ghostly wail tugged at his heart. Yami moved stealthily around dark gray granite, using stone's solidity to cloud his aura as he crept nearer to the burnt-copper scent of lit wax and spilled blood. Candlelight flickered in an iron cauldron as he neared the sound of a man chanting, twisted wax bobbing in dark red liquid, echoing the misty shimmers of three translucent bodies. Ghostly throats gasped and whimpered, insubstantial limbs struggling weakly against dead-black cords of energy.

And before the cauldron stood a dark-robed man, sweaty and ill, dusting something dark and choking into the flames.

/Yuck!/

/Wolfsbane and myrrh./ Yami moved out of the wind; no need to breathe in that venom. /And other scents I do not know... yet they reek of chaos. This bodes ill./

Yugi was glancing through their eyes, searching the shadows under the trapped spirits as the balding man turned an ink-scribbled page. /Shouldn't there be more than just him?/

/Were this trained dark magic? Yes./ Yami tested the heft of shadows around them, grimaced at the raggedness of magic pulsing here. /But this is curse-calling. Fed by anger, steeped in hate; those willing to shatter souls for power need no willing aid, nor priestly blessing, nor even training, if they call on Powers dark enough. Gods, _where_ are the mages of this city?/

He felt Yugi's shiver down their link. /This is a lot more Shadow Magic than we usually call./ Yugi took just enough control to look over their outfit; dark, dark leather, the Puzzle a golden glint at his throat, heavy ankhs decking forearms of a long jacket that rustled in the wind like a cape. /I've never.../

/No; I always held your memory when I clad us so./ Yami let his fingers brush across a golden loop, feeling the comforting weight of the protective symbols on his wrists. /Coercing spirits is _heka bin_ , aibou. Evil magic. Even if we stop him, the powers he's summoning may well act on their own. We need every ward I can raise./

"Darkness, I call you, I call..."

/Who could turn down an invitation like that?/ Smirking, Yami stepped out of the shadows. "Well, well. A would-be necromancer." Dark boots stalked through clipped grass, making no more noise than the whisper of ghostly fingers through the wind. Violet mist rose from his footprints, trickling over cold ground to circle them all; ghosts, curse-caster, and embodied spirit. "I don't believe those belong to you."

Sweaty fingers clenched on pages; magic-glazed eyes cleared, taking in the small teen in dark leather.

Yami waited, letting the Shadow Realm close around them. He knew what this mortal saw. A slim Japanese teenager, barely five feet tall, hair spiky tufts of red-tipped black streaked with gold like lightning. Indigo leather clad him neck to toe, brightened only by a myriad of buckles, the belt holding his Duel Monsters deck... and a golden pendant in the shape of an inverted pyramid, Horus Eye gleaming from its side.

_Warning enough for those who deal in Darkness_ , Yami thought, studying the black energy binding the ghosts. _If he's sense enough to see it._

/Wouldn't count on that,/ Yugi warned, feeling the magic about them roil with hatred.

/Nor will I./ "Release them, and live."

"You're weeks too late, whoever you are," the man growled. "The way is prepared. The doors to chaos open. I will break the fetters of the demons of Sebau, I will sing to the Terrible One who dwells at the bend of the River of Amentet. I will open the doors of the Other World; I shall delve into the waters of Nu, before the first sunrise, and call its creatures home..."

"You're mad," Yami breathed.

"The world is mad." A manic glitter in dark eyes. "I'm just being sane."

Yami extended his senses, held back a shudder. "You've weakened the very fabric of the world here. What could you possibly gain that would be worth this?" His gaze fell on the bubbling cauldron, the picture of an olive-skinned brunette adrift in candle-lit red.

"Beautiful, isn't she? My priceless Corinne." Lips pulled back from bloodied teeth. "She left me; she's mine, and she _left_ me for her damn witchery!"

/Smart lady,/ Yugi observed.

"Oshun wouldn't let me touch her precious little priestess. But I searched, I searched; I found this power, older than hers, and now she burns, she burns..." He laughed, dark and sadistic. "By dawn the little priestess will yield to me or die."

"By starfall you'll be dead, shattered by the creatures you seek to call," Yami stated, darkness curling around his hands. _Lust and hate; one who would defy a Power to seize Her priestess. Gods, we are in danger._

"Do you think I care? Flee, and you might live to see the sunrise. Once." The necromancer sneered at twisted apparitions. "Unless you'd like to join my little collection? I've said the words; I've made the sacrifices. The stars bow to me; the great doors in the sky stand open at my call. I can seize you by your very breath!" A hand reached out, squeezed the air-

/Look out!/

Dark magic snarled along an ankh-clad arm, gnawed at gold before Yami could shake it off. /Easy, aibou. I've faced worse./ Sweat touched his brow; violet eyes narrowed, a glint of ruby in their depths. "A poor attempt, necromancer. And unwise." He met the manic gaze. "I sense truth in you, dark one. You have given your soul, without question, and of your own will. Poor a choice as it may be, you have the right to your power. But _not_ to theirs."

"Oh no? People are so ignorant in these times. Look at these, the unburied dead. No one to perform the opening of their mouths, no guide to show them the way into the West. Easy prey. _My_ prey." A hungry smile stretched the sallow face. The curse-caller tugged on dark cords, drinking in the silvery shimmers drained from weeping ghosts. "I have them. And soon, their strength will throw the dark doors open..."

Yami smirked. "Care to wager on that?"

Hot eyes narrowed. "Who are you to ask me?"

Yugi rolled unseen eyes. /Like we'd tell him./

"That riddle's not for you. But others I will answer. For them." Yami met each pair of translucent eyes in turn; a middle-aged man with a gaping wound where his heart should have been, a worn woman whose lips were tinged with the foam of drowning. A child, thin and shivering and afraid...

_Be strong, little one. We will not forsake you_.

Cold lips parted. _Help us..._

"For them I will answer," Yami said softly. Cocked a dark brow at their foe. "Unless you're afraid?"

"Afraid?" The curse-caller's lip curled. "There's nothing in this for me."

"Then we'll raise the stakes." Ruby glimmered in Yami's gaze. "Riddle me, and I'll riddle you. Win, and you win my power. Lose..."

"Riddles? The oldest spells of all, little boy, and you'd challenge me to that?" The necromancer laughed darkly. "Lose, and you'll meet mine face to face!"

"Fair enough," Yami shrugged. Leaned back against a tombstone, eyeing his foe. "Game start."

"You think this is a game? Always hungry, ever fed," their enemy hissed, hand splashing into his cauldron to fling thick liquid toward Yami. "The flesh I lick will soon turn red!"

/Hmph./ "Fire."

And flames - halted, inches from his face.

The curse-caller gaped. "That's not..."

"Possible?" Yami waved a hand, shattering frozen fire into dark glints that crackled and vanished. "At night they come, never fetched. By day they're lost, never stolen."

"Dreams," the necromancer sneered.

"No. Something else you gave up hope of, when you took your first steps into darkness." Black cords splintered in diamond light, freeing the woman with a shriek. "Stars."

Wind swept one ghost from the mists, and she was gone.

"Yield them," Yami warned. "Yield them, and I'll spare you if I can."

/...But you don't think you can./ Yugi's tears glittered down their bond.

/I would try, aibou. But he's granted himself to the darkness. The willing sacrifice of a soul.../

"Weight in my belly, trees on my back," the necromancer growled. "Nails in my ribs; feet I do lack!"

Yami sucked in a sharp gasp, feeling the Shadow Realm pierce his spirit as if the riddle's nails had been pounded through him. What... where...

/Yami!/

_Tree's child, river-rider_... "A ship," Yami gritted out, tearing off shards of shadow.

His foe stared. "Who _are_ you?"

"Not your turn," the spirit growled. _What shall I ask... ah._ "Bright as diamonds, loud as thunder. Never still, a thing of wonder."

"Lightning!"

And black cords shattered in a rush of foam, and the girl fled.

"Waterfall," Yami corrected, recalling the bright spray of cataracts even the staunchest ship needed aid to traverse. "Your move."

"Glittering points that downward thrust." Blood-soaked hands rubbed over each other, a flicker of deadly white forming between them. "Sparkling spears that never rust."

_What? I don't...spears that can't rust? That makes no sense..._ And there was chill about him, the Shadow Realm's chill as it sensed his lack of answer, stabbing his heart, seizing his magic-

/Icicle!/

/Yugi?/

/You wouldn't know this one! Trust me!/

"Icicle," Yami gasped.

Chill held on a heartbeat more. Crackled, and seeped away.

"They have winter in Japan," his foe murmured. "What are you?"

_Riddle, I need a riddle._ Yami shivered. So close, that last one. So cold.

Words swept into his mind. /This one./

"I build up castles, I tear down mountains," Yami bit out, eyes on the last, frantic ghost, the pulses of light being drained from the frail spirit. "Some men I blind, others I make see."

The necromancer laughed, tapping his pages. Touched one eye, to pop out a translucent lens. "Oh, please. Sand."

/Oops./

Yami winced, feeling the force of a sandstorm grit across his soul. /It's all right, aibou. We're still here. Just hang on./

/Trying.../

"Ripped from my mother's womb, beaten and burned," came the growl, barely audible through rising wind. "I become the slayer, thirsty for blood!"

_Fire, fire and forging wind, wind over blades_... "Copper and tin," Yami breathed.

And razor edges slipped away.

"But that's not the answer," the necromancer snarled. "That's not the answer! _Iron_ is the answer, you should have lost-"

Yami laughed darkly. "We didn't make swords of iron... when I knew it..."

/We can't do this much longer!/ Yugi warned, lending his own strength to his darker half. /Why is he still standing?/

/He's given himself to the Outer Dark, aibou. It's in him. Supporting him. Using him, to gain its freedom. Even I couldn't save him now./

Sadness echoed from his other self, wrapped around a bright core of determination. /Then we've got to finish this. Quick./

Fear flickered in mad eyes. The necromancer's breath panted harshly. "It _wasn't_ the answer! I should get another chance at you-"

"And I'll let you take it," Yami smirked. "If..."

"If?"

"Should I win this one, I'll riddle you for the last time," the spirit said coldly. "Winner take all."

"The darkness is with me," his foe snarled. "A few more riddles and I'll finish you, win or lose. What could you possibly have that's worth it?"

Ruby eyes glowed. "Because win or lose, I will give you my name."

"Well. Well, well, well." The necromancer's gaze fell on his pages. And smiled, speaking words old when no tomb had yet been carved in the Valley of the Kings. _"Behold, I am the dweller in his terrors, his firstborn. I bring prey from a distance..."_

"Sebek." The ghost of the crocodile god snapped fangs on air, snarling as it vanished. "And your accent's terrible," Yami said lightly in English.

"Egypt." The curse-caller's face paled. "You're of Egypt."

"Long and long ago. Mortal _fool_." /Yugi, help me,/ Yami whispered. /I need something he wouldn't know. I need something not of magic. Now./

Warmth wrapped him, fighting off the clinging shadows. /You already know it, Yami. Trust me./

_Always._ "Demons and rogues know nothing else, save starlight."

"What?" Mad eyes narrowed. "That's no Egyptian riddle..."

"Answer."

"You can't possibly..."

"Answer me!" Yami growled. _One breath more, hold one more-_

Red-stained hands twisted, seizing magic to crush this impudent challenger. "Hate!"

"No." And darkness swallowed robes with a scream.

"As I promised," Yami whispered. The mists of the Shadow Realm faded, leaving a limp corpse on stained grass. Their unnamed foe lay like a discarded doll, eyes wide and dilated and utterly empty. "I gave you my name."

/Oh.../

Yami closed his eyes. _Don't look, aibou. Don't see._

/No./ Grief and love and shivering bravery reached out to him. /We had to stop him. I know we had to./ Cold swept by his shoulder. /What's that?/

"I believe someone wishes to speak to us." Yami glanced up at a frail spirit. "What is it, lost one?"

Translucent lips worked, trying to form sound. Blood bubbled in the man's wound, faded scarlet.

/Why can't he talk to us?/

Yami frowned, recalling their foe's words. "He's recently dead, aibou. No one has tended to him. And we are no priests, to coax a wandering _ba_ back to its eternal home." Yet - there was a way...

He held out a hand, palm forward, speaking words out of the heart of lost memory. "Ptah shall open my mouth, and the god of my town shall unfasten the swathings. Then shall come Thoth, with words of power, who shall untie the fetters. And Tem shall cast them back at those who would fetter me..."

_Faith_... _Key... have... tell her_ -

Candles blew out, and the ghost was gone.

"Aaah..." Yami dropped to one knee on mown grass, drawing in deep breaths of night air.

/You're hurt!/

Yami blinked away blurs, focusing on anything but still, dark cloth. Shivered as misty air exacerbated the chill of spent magic. "We are, yes, my own. I'm sorry."

/...It could have been worse./ Yugi reached out from the Puzzle, testing the strength of night around them. /Everything feels so fragile./

"He failed. Yet the barriers between this world and the Shadows are thin." Yami reached out with his own senses, winced at the sting. "They should heal in time."

/Can we do anything to help?/

"We've done what we can," Yami admitted, weaving through gravestones toward the cemetery entrance. He didn't feel up to scaling the wall once more. "We're Shadow mages, aibou. Not those who weave the world back together." Gate. Conveniently open. Which made sense, after a fashion; their foe hadn't planned on being stopped by any mortal power...

/Yami, I'm taking over!/

Yugi stepped through the cemetery gate, shivering as ankhs and jacket faded, leaving him clad in a sleeveless shirt of buckled dark blue leather. "Are you okay?"

The spirit shifted in his Puzzle, weary and heart-worn. /Just tired, aibou./

Yugi chafed bare arms as he walked back to the road. Cascade was chilly. "Grandpa might know where we could find a priest. Someone who'd know how to help." The lights of a convenience store beckoned; he headed for the pay phone nestled by the door.

Something in the set of his emotions roused Yami's attention. /You should be calling a taxi, Yugi. We must be gone before our foe is found./

"I know. And I will. But we can't just leave him there, Yami. No matter what he tried to do." Biting his lip, Yugi picked up the phone and dialed.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Point Grey Cemetery," Yugi said quickly. "There's been some vandalism."

* * *

  
_He'll be all right_. Solomon Mouto paced his room in the Hotel Devonshire, not looking at the clock, running worried fingers through spiky gray hair. _He has his deck. He can summon help if he needs it. And Yami's looking after him. He'll be all right._

_You should be more worried about the poor fool they're after..._

The short old man sighed, sitting down on one of the blue-sheeted beds. His grandson was somewhere out there in the city night, chasing down dark magic. His small, bright, cheerful grandson... whose soul held the spirit of a killer.

_Oh, Yugi. I'm so sorry_.

Yugi swore Yami never struck without cause. That the dark spirit of the Millennium Puzzle was part of him now, and would not act against his wishes. That Yami loved him, loved them both, as the family he could not remember.

"Just get to know him, Grandpa. He cares about you. He helped me save you..."

Small consolation, toting up the destruction Solomon could now lay at Yami's door. Pain. Insanity. At least five deaths - and those were the ones he _knew_ of.

Not to mention an acute shortage of bullies in Domino High School.

_Be fair_ , Solomon told himself tiredly. _Some of that was Bakura's work_.

Slim, white-haired Ryou Bakura was almost as much of a bully-magnet as his grandson. And the Millennium Ring's spirit was even more homicidal than Yami.

Yet Yugi and his friends still wanted to tame that dark magic. Befriend it. Lighten it. Bring it home.

_And I don't know what to do_. Solomon cradled his head in his hands. _I simply don't._

Let Yugi keep the Puzzle? Hold that darkness in himself, that ancient magic that drew enemies and allies and monsters into a constant swirl of oddness around them all?

Yugi swore that Yami had changed since he'd solved the Puzzle. That the dark spirit had... gentled. Worn away some of his rage in the companionship of friends, gaining humor, hope, even love in its place.

_Yet you don't seem to see how you've changed, Yugi_. Solomon closed his eyes. _The way you walk, the way you Duel, how you slip into Ancient Egyptian when you think I can't hear... gods, you face down_ Kaiba _and never blink. Yami's wrapped around your soul like a vine. And he's getting stronger._

_Could_ he take the Puzzle from Yugi, if he tried? His grandson had learned more than strategy from the spirit nestled in his soul. Tea Gardner had told him about the so-called _simple_ protective spell that the pair of them had placed on her before they'd left Bayville. Had let Solomon trace those invisible symbols, testing their strength.

The shock had blown him across the kitchen.

Between that and Eli Stoddard's phone call... he'd had to get them out of Domino City. Just for a week or so. Just to have time to think. Time to _breathe_.

And now this. _Please be all right, Yugi._

A knock at the door. "Grandpa?"

Solomon opened the door and looked into wide violet eyes. Noted the goose bumps on bare arms, the faint tear-tracks over pale cheeks. Searched the boy's gaze, looking for a trace of ruby...

_What am I doing?_ He gathered the shivering seventeen-year-old into his arms, walked them both inside the room and locked the door behind them. "Yugi."

A sob caught in his grandson's throat. Chilled hands patted across his shoulders, drawing the boy close, unruly hair brushing against his beard. The Puzzle dug into his chest a moment, slid away as his grandson pressed closer.

And Solomon still wasn't certain who he held.

_Time to face reality, Mouto._ "What happened?"

"It was..." the boy hiccupped against his shoulder. "Someone was using spirits, Grandpa. Trying to curse a priestess. Corinne. He... gave her name to the Dark..."

_Dear gods._ Whoever "he" was, he'd put this Corinne in danger of losing mind, body, and soul. Even if Yami had stopped the attempt, the magical aftereffects could be devastating. "Yugi." Solomon kept his tone gentle; this hesitance had to be Yugi. "What happened?"

Fingers clenched in his sweater. Yugi buried his head in Solomon's shoulder, silent.

_No. Please, no._ "It's all right." _Oh, if only it were._ "You can tell me."

A shake of a head. Solomon looked down in time to catch the glint of a tear slipping down his grandson's chin.

Solomon hesitated. _I don't have to know. Not yet. I could... wait. Until he's ready to tell me._

Or he could ask the one person who would tell him. Whether he wanted to know or not.

"Yami. Tell me what happened."

The Puzzle flashed, and Solomon felt the body in his arms shift. Not his grandson's innocent faith in him, not this; the being he now held was weary, and wary, and still ready to attack if necessary.

"Thank you, Grandpa." Not Yugi's voice, not quite. A shade deeper, a tone richer; words laid out with the confidence of cornerstones. "I've been trying to get him to rest. It... was not an easy battle. For either of us."

Solomon sighed. "So you did kill him." _Kami-sama, if you're listening - why Yugi?_

"It was a Shadow Game," Yami said quietly. "And we warned him."

Small consolation. Even among those rare few that knew magic in this day and age, Solomon had never heard of any beside himself who'd met the Shadow Realm face to face. Yami could have told the man the stark truth, and never been believed.

And... were those tears, soaking his shirt?

"I don't _understand_ , Grandpa." Yami's voice was thick with rage, sorrow, stunned bewilderment. "Where are the mages of this time? Where are those who should have been watching over their city's spirits, placing wards against such evil spells? We're not of this land, not of these people. Where were those who should have protected them?"

"I don't know. Cascade has rumors of being a difficult place for those with magic...." Yami's words sank in with a shock. Solomon studied the ancient spirit. "You didn't want to kill him."

"Want to? Ra, no!" Ruby eyes met his, exhausted and indignant. "Isis and Hathor, Grandpa, what do you take me for?"

_A lost pharaoh, used to the power of life and death_ , Solomon thought starkly. _A spirit of darkness, part of the Shadows you call to wreak havoc on those you consider guilty. A killer in an innocent's body._

_My grandson's protector. Heaven help us all._

Yami held his gaze a heartbeat longer, shook his head slowly. "Were there others here who could have dealt with the necromancer, Grandpa, I would have allowed it. Were there laws, and mages to enforce them, and no threat to Yugi - I would have let him pass. I sought him because I felt the spirits cry out, and the world torn, and there was _no one_ else to hold it whole!" A violent shove broke Solomon's grip, and the spirit stalked away.

_Is he... crying?_

"Yami. I-" Solomon's breath caught. "I'm sorry."

Leather-clad shoulders stiffened. A pale hand tangled in a hotel bedspread, as if wanting to take and twirl and strike him down with it like a weighted cotton net.

"I am sorry," Solomon said softly, placing a careful hand on his grandson's arm. Yes, that was a stray tear, escaping before Yami could blot it. Yugi's grief, leaking through the link between them? Or... could it possibly be Yami's? "I warned Charles not to judge so swiftly. And here I am."

"I am Darkness, Solomon Mouto." Yami kept his gaze fixed on the printed sheet. "I've never denied that."

No. Hidden the fact that he existed, yes. Blanked some of his Shadow Games from Yugi's memory, certainly; though Yugi and Ryou both seemed certain that had been an accident, a yami's protective instincts combined with the Puzzle-spirit's blurry confusion over who owned Yugi's mind. Confusion that had ended with a near-deadly duel atop Pegasus' castle, when Kaiba had forced Yami's hand and Yugi had barely stopped the spirit's strike in time....

Still. Yami had never denied what he was.

"Come here." Solomon wrapped gentle arms around the dark teen, felt muscle and bones stiffen in his embrace. "Shhh. Come here. It's all right."

Stiffness melted into boneless exhaustion, tri-colored hair tucking into his shoulder as if Solomon's arms were the last support over the abyss. "I don't want you to hate me."

"How could I hate you," Solomon said softly. Stroking his grandson's back, thin leather clinging to lines of muscle that hadn't existed a year ago. Yugi had never been one for sports...

Nor was Yami. But the dark spirit loved rooftops as much as his grandson, and had made a game of finding new paths to and from school that crossed at least one each way. It was enough to turn his hair white.

_Or it should be_ , Solomon chuckled to himself, eyeing strands still stubbornly gray. _I'd ask him to stop. But it lets him avoid_ some _of the bullies, and that's worth helping him mend a few uniforms._

"Solomon...."

"Grandpa," Solomon corrected, helping the groggy spirit onto Yugi's bed. "It's all right. I'm here."

Ruby was retreating, mingled with violet in half-closed eyes. "Love you, Grandpa."

"I know." Solomon planted a feather-light kiss on his grandson's forehead, watched the Puzzle's bearer succumb to sleep. And sighed.

We _warned him_ , Solomon thought, walking toward a date with his toothbrush. We _moved to protect the spirits._ We.

Yugi swore Yami didn't act without consulting him first.

_Yugi_ had let Yami start the Shadow Game.

His young, innocent grandson... had let the spirit he loved unleash the darkness in his soul.

_It's going to be a long night_.

* * *

  
_Annoyance is a thing with feathers_ , Blair Sandburg thought, deliberately mangling Dickenson, curly head buried under his pillow as doves continued cooing outside the loft windows. _Man. For a guy who wants me to put the white noise generators on when I have to study late, how come Jim hasn't taken up target practice?_

"Blair!"

The anthropologist ducked deeper under cotton-wrapped goose-down. "Whose idea was it to invent morning people, anyway?" he mumbled. He was _not_ getting up. Not if he didn't have to. This was the first morning in over three weeks that he hadn't felt sick to his stomach, and he meant to make the most of it.

"I heard that, Shorty." Jim Ellison's chuckle came right through Blair's bedroom door. "You've got a phone call. Corinne Santiago?"

_Say what?_ Blair tumbled out of bed, yanking on fresh jeans. Pulled on a shirt as he wove toward the door. Managed to tangle a hand in the wrong sleeve as he undid the latch. _Ack! Cold floor, cold floor!_

Detective Ellison watched his short partner hop from foot to foot, shaking his head. "Coffee." He pointed to the steaming mug by the phone.

"Thanks." _Ah, rug._ Blair stepped onto the four-colored pile, toes relaxing in relative warmth. "Ms. Santiago?"

"Blair." The Santeria priestess let out a relieved breath. "I hoped you were all right. We knew we were calling you into danger. But I felt the magics worked, the strain on the weft of the world. I didn't dare disturb you until dawn had broken, and the shadows retreated from the land."

"Wha-" Blair yawned. "'Scuse me. S'early. What danger?" Magic? Corinne had magic; he knew that, no matter how much Jim might deny the evidence. When Oshun rode her, she could stop bullets.

"The dark one. The curse-caller." Corinne's voice was puzzled. "You know. You stopped him."

_Dark one?_ Blair's eyes widened, more awake than caffeine could manage. "Ah... maybe you better take this from the top. Where did you call me?" He sank into the couch. "And when? I've been here since we got in from stakeout." Chasing down a guy who knew a guy who might know a guy they were looking for; frustrating to his and Jim's nerves, especially when Rafe and Brown had a juicy homicide over at Questscape to poke into. Lucky bastards.

Jim had asked to help out. High profile case, the more detectives on it the better, team play - the whole nine yards. But Simon had put his foot down, hard. No way was any defense lawyer poking a hole in the Johnston case by claiming prior prejudice on Ellison and Sandburg's part. Inspector Connor could help. Joel Taggert, definitely. But the two most acclaimed detectives in Major Crimes were not to be anywhere near the Johnston homicide. Period.

_Nearly get thrown out of your job by the company president for not covering up his son's cheating and homicidal tendencies, and they think you might be prejudiced_ , Blair thought. _Gee, I wonder why?_

"Yes; I should have realized you might not remember." Corinne sighed. "Iyalocha found me in the Botanica last night, in the midst of a half-drawn circle, ablaze with fever. I was... raving. Enspelled. Darkness had me, and none of the counter-charms she could manage would work. She thought-" A raw gasp on the line. "Another hour, and she thought I would break."

"It's okay," Blair said gently, trying to soothe the panic in the priestess' voice. "It's over."

"Yes." She drew in a ragged breath. "Yes, it is. Though now I and mine must say the rites, to ensure none of the darkness escaped to our world... it is over. Thank you."

Silence from the kitchen. Blair looked up, met his partner's blue gaze. Knew the Sentinel was listening to both sides of this phone call. "Did I go anywhere last night?" he mouthed.

Jim gave him an incredulous look. Shook his head.

_Okay._ "Um... what did I do?"

"Iya was desperate," Corinne admitted. "She called for any power that would help. Any ally who could hear. And Oshun came, and said the blood of the shaman would save me. That the shadows were coming, and I had but to hold on."

Blair looked over his hands. Gave himself a quick once-over, met another shake of Jim's head. No blood. Not so much as a nick from shaving. "And then?"

"The fever broke. The curse was - shattered." Her voice dropped, became more than human. "We owe you much, Blair Sandburg. Shamans do not slay lightly. We will not forget."

_Click_.

Blair stared at the buzzing phone. _Slay?_ His throat knotted. _He'd_ never been possessed that he knew of. And yet... he knew what Corinne could do in Oshun's keeping. "Ah, Jim...?"

The sentinel was checking every lock and window, sniffing gently, feeling ledges and handles for the minutest scratches. "No way," Jim said firmly. "There's no way, Blair. You were in this loft with me. All night." The detective frowned. "But I think we'd better start looking for a body."

_Terrific._ Blair moved toward the breakfast nook, suddenly not hungry. _Could the day get any weirder?_

* * *

  
_Mine_ , Mai Valentine thought, watching a flock of seagulls squabble over the cook's tossed tuna-fish sandwich as they headed for the docks after a long night's gambling at sea. _Mine, mine, mine... boy, they really do sound like that._ Leaning against the _Luck of the Draw_ 's railing, the blonde Duelist's lips curled in a wry grin. _If only life were always that simple._

It could be. If this job worked out, if Marie Sidonie's leave ended and the woman Mai was temping for decided she'd had enough of the traveling dealer's life... well, running a table on the _Luck_ could be a good line of work. No magic, no Shadow Games, no annoying blond lunkhead Duelists making her think twice about everything she'd always taken for granted. Just peace, quiet, and making nice with the casino ship passengers. It could be good.

"You free for the day, darling?"

Mai didn't turn, violet eyes focused on the approaching Cascade waterfront as her ears kept track of the brunet sleaze-ball behind her. Anyone whose game table felt as off as Ivan Sterling's was good reason to think twice about making the _Luck_ a permanent job. "Get a life, Sterling. Before I introduce you to my kind of blackjack."

"Hey, just being friendly...."

Mai tuned out his spouted protests, tapping polished nails on painted steel. Moronic sleazes aside, it had been nice to be out of Domino City. Still... there was something missing.

_Let's see_ , a cynical part of her mind toted up. _No mind-reading, no dragons, no threats of getting thrown in the Shadow Realm. And you_ miss _that?_

Please. Not a chance.

Though maybe it would be nice to give Serenity Wheeler a call. Just to see how the kid was getting on, now that her eyes were better and her mother was actually talking to her brother. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to call Tea, either. Talk about a girl with _double_ the usual boyfriend trouble. She could use a more experienced woman's perspective on the mess.

_And it wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that they'll let you know what Joey's up to, would it?_ That traitor part of her mind pointed out. _How he's doing, whether or not he managed to knock himself out summoning another Duel Monster, if he talks about you in his sleep...._

_I am not thinking that_ , Mai told herself firmly. Great. Now she was talking to herself. Were yamis catching?

_You miss him_.

As if. Miss a seventeen-year-old who still had a Brooklyn accent after spending half his life in Domino? A hotheaded, scruffy kid who jumped into any fight or Duel headfirst, wisecracks leading the way for his fists? A guy who still rose to the bait every time Seto Kaiba let fly another stinging barb about lost puppies?

_You never know. Kaiba might have something there_ , Mai thought as the crew fastened them to the dock. Threw a glare Sterling's way, as he tried to sidle past her with wandering hands. _Kid's middle name should have been Faithful, that's for sure._

Huh. What she wouldn't give to see Yugi's friends walk up that gangplank right now. Guys like Sterling never went after groups. Or heck, even Seto Kaiba on his lonesome. Cold eyes snapping, trench coat blowing in the wind, Sterling would never know what hit him-

And something - tingled in the breeze around her.

_No. Oh no. I didn't mean it!_

Mai held her breath as the sea breeze ruffled her hair, fluttering away to tangle the perfect coiffures of the disembarking passengers. Nothing happening, nothing happening....

She let air sigh out. _Great. You really do need a vacation, kid._ _You're jumping at shadows_. Sheesh. What had she been thinking? She'd never touched the magic in the cards. And Yugi's friends weren't anywhere near Cascade.

_And that goes double for certain less-than-friendly rivals,_ Mai smirked. _Seto Kaiba, in Cascade?_

* * *

  
There were bad days, Seto Kaiba reflected. Days when stocks went down, annoying company meetings went up, and some over-caffeinated hotshot in Kaiba Corporation's R&D turned down a blind alley and fried half the lab computers.

There were bad days, and then there were days like these. Days it just didn't pay to crawl out of bed because they started the second your toes hit the floor and could only be considered _improved_ if you took a bullet train straight to hell.

Which the street here was giving a damn good impression of, right now.

Chaos and lights and screaming. Smoke; gasping, bitter smoke. Blackened holes in alley walls. Blackened holes in his heart.

_"Mokuba!"_

"Kid, you have to get back!"

And he was not going to break the uniformed officer's arm, he was not - though the last executive to call him "kid" had ended up with a shattered company, a ravaged bank account, and most likely a one-way trip to the bottom of Tokyo Bay when his Yakuza masters had figured out their pet corporate spy had snooped on one Kaiba too many. Here as well as Japan, assaulting a cop was a serious offence. A seizeable offence. A jailable offence.

Jail equaled wasted time equaled time not spent looking for Mokuba.

No. Cop assaulting was not on the list of options. Yet.

_My head hurts._

*Breathe, master. He's alive. We would know if he were not.*

_Hurts and has dragons in it_. Oh yes. This was one of _those_ days.

"You okay, kid?" The dark officer none-too-subtly nudged him back from the growing barricade. "You get hit? You look pale."

*Summoning in haste tends to do that,* an amused, scaly voice rumbled in Seto's mind.

Kaiba shuddered, more than Cascade's chill drizzle could account for. There'd been no time to wonder where Mokuba had slipped off to, no time to chastise himself for losing track of his twelve-year-old walking bundle of curiosity of a brother, no time to even take his leave of the confused American computer clerk whose wares he'd been studying with an eye toward keeping Kaiba Corp. laughably ahead of the competition.

Only time to hear, *The young one is in danger.*

Only a heartbeat to seize his Deck, and set one last-ditch, defensive trap.

_"Mirror Wall!"_

He'd felt the blast, inside and out; felt fire and shrapnel and a bolt of bitter fear-

Then nothing.

"I'm Officer Rogers. Is there someone I can call?" Rogers was glancing from him to the scene, evidently weighing the merits of leaving this dazed bystander on his own to assisting the swarm of emergency personnel hustling into the blast zone in protective gear. "What's your name, ki-" The officer caught sight of narrowed blue eyes, and swallowed. "Sir?"

"Kaiba," Seto snarled.

*Are you sure?*

Idiotic question. _Mirror Wall taps your own Life Points. You're in shock, you idiot. Get out of the road._ "My brother's in there. Go."

"Your brother's in there...?" Rogers blanched, and hustled off. Grabbing a well-dressed man who'd shown up with the ambulances, pointing toward Kaiba's brass-studded violet trench coat as the suit patted the arm of a sobbing woman.

_Some kind of psychotherapist_ , Seto thought coldly, fading back through the crowd of rubberneckers; he could spot the false smile a mile away. _Here to make it easier on those who'll have to identify a body. As if anything could ease that pain._

But he knew Mokuba was alive. He knew it.

How he knew... he didn't want to think about.

*He's your heart, master. We guard it as we guard you. You struck in time.*

_I'm not listening... why are you_ talking _to me, anyway?! I didn't call you!_

Puzzlement seeped from his Deck. *You called us for Mokuba. You always call us, when you know he's not safe.*

And visiting America - hell, anywhere outside his own picked security - definitely wasn't safe... no. He was not going to think about that.

_Think_ , Kaiba told himself coolly, skillfully slipping behind a leather-clad gawker as Rogers' suited shrink tried to catch a glimpse of violet. At least he didn't stand out as blatantly in America as he would in Domino City; six-foot-one wasn't an uncommon height here. _Explosion, they've set up a cordon even that shrink's not getting past, the uniforms look nervous, and the rescue workers took time to break out protective gear._

Chemical hazard, then. Which meant breaching the line to search for Mokuba would be foolish. Worse than foolish; he'd have outraged physicians to dodge as well as cops, and they were by far the more dangerous.

An ambulance peeled out, ruby and white lights flashing, siren a wavering scream of panic.

_Taking the survivors to be evaluated and treated_ , Kaiba realized. _If Mokuba's alive-_

*You know he is.*

_Hush_. If Mokuba were alive, he wouldn't be here.

Break it down. Subroutines. Follow the correct algorithm, and he'd achieve the proper result.

One: phone.

Two: call taxi.

Three: waiting for taxi, run a quick search of his database on which local hospitals were tasked with chemical victims.

Four...

"Cascade General."


	2. Chapter 2

"You've reached the Ellison residence. We're probably out dangling off an oil rig right now, so you know the drill-"

"Sandburg!"

"Right. Leave a message, we'll get back to you." _Beep_.

"Ah, this is Yugi Mouto," Yugi said carefully into the hotel phone. "Dr. Sandburg? My grandfather, Solomon Mouto, asked me to call you about the Hayashibara texts. We're going to be here in Cascade for a few days, and we'd like to set up a time to meet." He listed off the hotel number and their cell, and hung up. "Grandpa, why did you want me to call him?"

Shuffling a photograph Yugi still hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of back in with a sheaf of photocopied ancient writing, Solomon forced a smile. "It's... well, complicated."

/I'll believe that,/ Yami murmured, eyeing their grandpa from the labyrinth of his soul room. /Something's amiss here, aibou./

/Besides last night?/

/Aa. And about that..../

_Right. Wish I didn't have to think about that._ "So... do you know anybody local who deals with spirits, Grandpa?" Yugi asked carefully. "The Darkness isn't focused anymore, but magic's going to be very fragile around Corinne for a while-"

"If she's a priestess, she can protect herself against the aftereffects."

Yugi blinked, taken aback by his grandpa's unaccustomed bluntness. "But-"

"Yugi. Cascade's been a city for less than two centuries. I doubt Yami's ever been in any settlement that recent, but I can tell you the result is a great deal of magical chaos as human and natural energies interact. There's a similar nexus in the Sea of Japan I used to live near; between that and various digs, I'm accustomed to the raw edges. But most people with any degree of Sight simply can't handle it for long. I'm rather surprised Dr. Sandburg is still here...." Solomon looked him over. "You don't have a headache?"

"Ah... no." Yugi listened inside for a second. "Yami says the Items ground their holders. As long as we're home, we're okay."

"Home?" Solomon frowned at the hotel room.

Yugi smiled. "Home isn't a place, Grandpa. It's people. Family."

Solomon eyed the Puzzle speculatively. "Every time I think I know how that works... well. Even if we found someone, we'd find it very difficult to explain without hinting at just what Yami did last night. Some magical practitioners have quite good relations with the local authorities."

"Huh?"

/I believe he means they might try to - is the word "grill" us, aibou?/ Yami sounded almost amused by the prospect.

Oh. _Oh._ Yugi sighed. "They wouldn't find anything, Grandpa. Don't worry."

"Lost cause, I'm afraid." Solomon rubbed the back of his neck. "Corinne's not a common name. It's not worth the risk, Yugi. Trust me."

/Hmph. Leaving magic loose and untidy..../

/You're just upset because Cascade has more rain than Domino City,/ Yugi teased his darker half.

/It's cold. And wet,/ the five-thousand-year-old Egyptian spirit retorted. /And the auras of this place are... unpleasant./

Yugi started. /Is it dangerous?/

He felt the spirit sweep Shadow Magic outward, testing how it pulsed against patches of light and dark, love and hate and the wild mix of city and wilderness energies. /More unruly than actively hostile, even with the necromancer's interference,/ Yami determined. /I don't know who wards spirits here, in these modern times, but their techniques could use work... hmm. The window, aibou?/

"...Are you listening to me?" Solomon sighed. "How do you get through the school day?"

"Well, at school, Yami knows where all the magic is," Yugi said apologetically, heading for the half-open window. "So we don't have keep looking to make sure we don't run into... a weak spot?"

/It's a reasonable analogy. Ready?/

/Anytime./ "That way, the Puzzle doesn't attract so much attention-"

_Yu-Gi-Oh!_

"Except from those who were already intent on it," Yami finished, violet eyes holding a flash of scarlet as he hauled a black-clad teen over the sill. "Tomb robber..."

A scrabbling hand shoved a black knitted cap aside, exposing Ryou Bakura's rumpled silver hair. "It wasn't my idea!"

Solomon started as the slender teen scrambled into their room, taking in the uncharacteristic soot-gray trench coat, the satchel full of odd objects slung over his shoulder, the Millennium Ring glinting gold over his black sweatshirt... and the all-too-familiar panic in brown eyes. "Ryou! You shouldn't be here on your own!"

Ryou buried his head in his hands. "If I _were_ on my own, Mouto-san, I wouldn't be here!"

"But then why-" Solomon shook his head as he made the connection. "Bakura?"

"Not at the moment," Yami noted, laying a steadying hand on his taller friend's arm. "Are you in danger? Can you hold him? What's the last thing you remember?"

"Oh, I remember everything this time." Setting the satchel down, Ryou let out a slow breath. "This is a bit complicated."

/I'll bet,/ Yugi put in dryly, watching from his soul room. /He's here in Cascade when he's supposed to be in Domino City? How did he get here?/

"Good question, aibou," Yami noted. "How _did_ you get here?"

Ryou held up a familiar leather-bound booklet. "My passport's still valid."

"And a minor's," Solomon put in dryly, closing the window against a damp breeze.

"Mouto-san, you would not believe the people Bakura knows," Ryou sighed. " _I_ don't believe some of the people he knows... it was amazingly simple. We just - er - you're not planning to report any of this, are you?"

Yami took in the embarrassed rub of Ryou's fingers through the back of white hair, and felt a smile threaten. Whatever Bakura had done, it might have been unpleasant, inconvenient, and definitely out of character for Ryou, but it hadn't been actively malicious. Interesting.

/And he let Ryou stay awake for all of it,/ Yugi noted. /All right!/

A possible move toward true partnership, rather than Ryou and Bakura's usual unhealthy combination of host and malicious yami. Perhaps Yugi had been right all along, and there was reason to hope. "No bodies?" Yami asked matter-of-factly. "No souls trapped in various unusual objects?"

"Not this time," Ryou admitted, stealing a chair from the room's small desk. "He just - um - really wanted to get out of town."

Yami did smile, now. "Tristan?"

"Tristan, Joey, Tea, you and Yugi, Mokuba when he can talk his brother into it... it's been a _siege_. Every day! People! Coming to my house. Bringing me food. Dragging me out to the mall, or the Game Shop, or the park - or even a dance studio!"

"Tea?"

"Tea," Ryou confirmed, leaning on the back of the chair. "Though I admit, I prefer reading books while she's practicing to getting yanked through malls at high speed by Joey and Tristan. I swear they're on personal terms with the owner of every secondhand music and motorcycle shop inside the city limits. And more than a few without. I'll grant you I was wishing for more company, but this...." Ryou shuddered. "Bakura swears it's all your fault."

"Not at all," Yami denied the charge. "Tristan's idea entirely. Though I'll grant you I found it intriguing."

"Intriguing? Yami, the other day I heard Tristan's motorcycle pull up, and _I_ nearly pulled out the Ring!"

"Good."

_"Good?"_ Ryou yelped.

Solomon's violet gaze darkened. "Yami...."

"You can't control your power if you're afraid of it." Yami met his grandfather's gaze squarely. "Grandpa, please try to understand. The Ring belongs in Ryou's hands, just as the Puzzle was meant for Yugi. If a soul is stolen, I can return it; I've done so before. But if Ryou can't master his own magic, Bakura will continue to use it as he chooses. You've seen yourself the chaos that can cause."

Solomon frowned. "Yami, the next time you plan to set in motion a course of action that may involve soul-stealing, no matter _how_ temporary, _warn me first_."

_Oops,_ Yami thought dryly.

/Oops is right,/ his hikari remarked, just as wry. /You're not a pharaoh anymore, Yami. We really _should_ talk to Grandpa before we start to do something risky./

A sigh echoed down their bond. /I know, aibou. I'm simply... not used to having elders to depend on./

Yugi wrapped his other self in a mental hug. /I know./ A flash of gold, and he took back control. "Sorry, Grandpa. I think he just thought it was obvious," Yugi admitted. "I guess I can see why you'd both want to get out of town, Ryou. But why did Bakura want to come here?"

"Well... er...."

_Mokuba!_

Fire and smoke and a dragon's roar-

"Kaiba!" Yugi blinked away flickers of fire, hand on the Puzzle. Tried to reach out, strengthen that fragile sense of _contact_. "Seto?"

/Kaiba, where are you?/ Yami listened through the shadows, attempted to grasp the thin thread of magic that bound them to the man whose soul he'd shattered - and restored. /Call us, Kaiba!/

Silence.

"Kaiba?" Solomon asked sharply. "Yugi, what's going on?"

Yugi drew in a shaky breath. "Ever since Yami crushed the evil out of Kaiba, we can... hear him sometimes. Through the shadows. He's a _sorcerer_ , Grandpa, the Shadow Realm knows when he's upset." Fingers closed on the golden pyramid. "Mokuba's in danger."

Solomon sighed, laying a gentle hand on his shoulders. "We'll call the others. Outside of that - they're in Japan, Yugi. Whatever's wrong, there's little we can do about it from here."

"But Kaiba's not in Japan," Ryou said, puzzled. "He's here. In Cascade." Chocolate eyes studied them both. "You really didn't know? Bakura-" he clamped his lips together, suddenly pale.

/So the tomb robber wakes,/ Yami observed. /Leave him be, Bakura! He's told us none of your plans./

/He's said enough!/ came the cold snarl from the Ring's spirit. Red flickered in Ryou's eyes, tinting chocolate to amber.

/Enough to determine you knew we would both be here, when neither Kaiba nor I knew the other would be anywhere but Domino City?/ Yami's smirk tugged at Yugi's lips. /That must have been unsettling./

The Ring flashed; amber eyes glowed as Bakura snarled. "Pharaohs and priests! Nothing but plots inside plots!"

"It's not a plot, Bakura," Yugi stated, holding down the trembling worry. _Mokuba. Please, kami-sama, let him be okay. Seto couldn't bear it if he wasn't._ "I don't know why Seto's here, but Grandpa and I are just here to talk to the son of an old friend of his. An archaeologist."

"Anthropologist," Solomon corrected. "And even if Kaiba is here, Yugi, Cascade is not a small city. We can't just go looking for him at random...."

Almost as one, Solomon and Yugi turned a speculative look on Bakura.

Who gripped his Ring, and eyed the distance to the window, obviously weighing his chances of getting past Yugi before Yami could take over. "You must be delusional."

"Please, 'Kura-kun?" Yugi gave the spirit his most innocent smile and bow, flashing frantic mental peace signs to the pharaoh growling in his soul room. "You've found Mokuba before. I know you could do it again."

Bakura's snarl flashed a hint of fang. The Ring's five golden pointers shifted against his shirt, magic stirring in response to its wielder's will. "Why should I?"

"Three words, young man," Solomon said acerbically. "Minor. Illegal. Deportation."

"Keh! You would." Subtle respect gleamed in the dark spirit's gaze as he studied Solomon. "You have spirit, old man. Do what you will - to Ryou. I don't feel like playing _hero_ today." The Ring flashed.

"Ooof," Ryou gasped. "Ow..." He smiled weakly. "Sorry, Yugi. I don't think... er, why are you smiling?"

"Yami was watching Bakura touch the Ring's magic," Yugi grinned. "Maybe Bakura won't use the Ring to find Mokuba. But _you_ can."

* * *

  
Chomping an unlit cigar, Captain Simon Banks paced the hall in Cascade General, listening to his oddest pair of detectives bicker.

"I was nowhere _near_ this one, Jim," Blair Sandburg stated, accompanied by a soft slosh that probably meant he was swiping a saltwater-soaked washcloth over his partner's arms and face. Both had been pronounced clear by the emergency crew, but clear for a regular person might not be clear for Jim Ellison. Sandburg was being cautious. Now.

"One week," Major Crime's most aggravating detective growled in turn. "What the hell happened to one week?"

Music to Simon's ears. Arguing meant both of them could breathe, which meant both of them would get the full effect when he _strangled_ them to death.

Ellison was a sentinel. Jim knew he was a sentinel. Blair knew he was a sentinel. Both of them knew damn well how hypersensitive Jim was to chemicals of every shape, form, or color. Which meant both of them should have damn well given up their hot pursuit of Manuel "Manny" Dominguez the second Jim got a whiff of methamphetamine-related precursors, and called in less-sensitive backup.

But no. Jim Ellison had been tracking - make that _hunting_ \- this particular drug dealer and rapist for almost a week, and there was no way he'd back off. Not for anything so minor as a potentially _life-threatening_ sensitivity....

And Simon stopped pacing, and counted to ten. Again.

So. Jim. Blair. Drug dealer. And a stray large-scale rolling meth lab in the back of a moving van parked in the alley, owned by the heavily-armed business associates of said drug dealer.

The results were predictable.

_There goes our homicide rate._

Thank god he had Taggert on the scene right now. The ex-Bomb Squad detective knew what to look for. He had the easy job; collect the evidence, get the bodies to the morgue, fend off the press with a "Sorry, we can't talk about an ongoing investigation".

Simon's job... had just switched to damage control.

So far he'd fended off a call from the mayor's office about assigning detectives to escort some foreign VIP visiting Questscape, coordinated with Transportation to keep part of the street blocked until Taggert was through gathering pieces, and gotten the statements of three shocked, shaken bystanders who were walking wounded. Which was why Simon was out here in the hall, and not in the room chewing Ellison out. He'd been careful not to come in contact with his witnesses, but he wasn't going to risk bringing in a trace of chemicals while Blair was making sure Jim was stable.

_And here comes the bad news._ Simon straightened as the brunette nurse stalked down the hall. Grateful for small blessings that it was this nurse; not everybody attached to the ER could take a Major Crimes invasion in stride. Ellison himself had terrified most of the doctors to the point they wouldn't come near him without backup. "Nurse Houlihan. What's the count?"

"Could be worse." Agnes Houlihan tilted her head back to look up at him, gray eyes tired. "So far, three dead. I'm hoping they're your perps. One teenage girl still in the OR for exposure and shrapnel; no ID, and head trauma."

Simon winced. "Bad?"

"We don't know yet," Houlihan said bluntly. "At least some of her reflexes are up and running. Keep your fingers crossed." She gave him a shadow of a smile. "It really could have been worse, Captain. We were able to release the people you got statements from. No exposure."

Simon scowled. "Excuse me?" He wasn't Bomb Squad or Vice, but he'd read enough reports on explosions like these to know that was _not_ normal.

"Exactly," Houlihan nodded. "I hope our last patient might shed a little light on that-"

"There's another witness?" Simon pounced.

The nurse gave him a look that had been known to stop Sandburg mid-obfuscation. "He's a minor, Captain. And right now, all he's speaking is Japanese."

And the day just kept getting better. "And...?"

"Dr. Hiroto's out of town, and we haven't been able to get hold of anybody else to translate," Houlihan said matter-of-factly. "He seems to be okay, but he's somewhere around ten, maybe twelve, and scared out of his wits. We need to calm him down... and if you want to interview him, you're going to need help. Hi, Blair. Can we borrow your partner?"

"You speak Japanese?" Simon turned a glare on his wayward sentinel. Yet another interesting fact Jim had forgotten to mention. He was starting to lose count.

"Army didn't switch me to Central America 'til later. I'm probably a little rusty," Jim shrugged, letting his partner precede him through the doorway. "Sure, Agnes. Where is he?"

"Downstairs. We'd better hurry; he filched a cell off one of the orderlies and made a call before we could grab it. We don't know who to, but it was international and the administrator's fit to be tied."

"You're sure the kid is clean?" Blair asked, face uncharacteristically serious. His curly brown hair was damp, and tied back with a leather thong; evidently Jim wasn't the only one who'd suffered through a quick rinse just to be sure.

"As the proverbial whistle," Houlihan assured him, leading the way down the hall and into the elevator. "We've got his effects elsewhere just in case. Except for a locket, he wouldn't let us take that off. Bit Dr. Hendee when he tried."

Blair grinned as the elevator doors closed, probably recalling a few of his own encounters with the Cascade ER pediatrician. "I like this kid already."

"He's cute, too," Houlihan admitted, watching the lights blink down two floors. "I just wish I knew what he was saying."

The doors opened, and Jim's brows shot toward his receding hairline. "Agnes... you might not _want_ to know."

Simon recognized Dr. Hendee's harried voice echoing out of one of the examination rooms. "Now, this will just sting a little...."

_"Hentai!"_ a young voice yelled.

"Pervert," Jim said dryly.

_"Shitsukoi! Te-o dokete-yo!"_

"Stop it. Take your hands off me," Jim translated, heading toward the ruckus.

Another furious burst of Japanese, interspersed with a grown man's yelp.

"Get that needle away from me before I shove it up your-" Jim clamped his lips shut, pink flushing the tips of his ears. "That is one _rude_ little kid."

"I thought the Japanese were supposed to be a polite culture," Blair said wryly.

"Guess he missed the memo." Jim stepped into the room, walking quietly up to the white-coated doctor and his struggling, swearing, black-haired armful of a patient. "Doctor? Why don't you just let him go for a minute." He bowed slightly. _"Hajime. Mashite_ Ellison _desu."_

Black hair froze. Wide blue eyes blinked at them, tear-streaked and frightened; blinked wider, taking in Simon's full 6'5 height. The over-sized green scrubs the kid had been shoved into shifted as he tried to scramble back, exposing the black thong of a locket that looked like nothing so much as an odd, brown-backed playing card.

_Huh. He_ is _cute_ , Simon thought, surprised.

Hendee wasn't letting go. "What'd you say to him, Detective?"

"Just told him my name. I think it would make things easier if we had his, don't you?"

_And cue the glare_ , Simon almost nodded, watching Hendee reluctantly back off as Jim eyed him.

But Ellison didn't follow up on his threats of mayhem, instead waving Blair forward as he stood a careful distance away and asked a quiet question.

The kid swallowed, fingering his locket. "Mokuba."

"Mokuba," Jim repeated gently. "Blair Sandburg. Captain Simon Banks...."

Simon listened to the rest of the introductions with half an ear, watching Mokuba's body language. _Scared kid_ , Simon noted, watching blue eyes flick to him, the door, Houlihan, the odd objects on the counter, and back to Jim, fast as Blair calculating who to talk to when the anthropologist-turned-detective wanted to defuse a mob. _And not just because he almost wound up as street pizza._

Of course, being hauled off away from your parents by god-knew-who, dumped into a hospital full of screaming, bloodied, terrified people, and stripped naked by doctors who didn't even speak your language would be enough to scare anybody.

_Nope, it's more than that_ , the captain of Major Crimes thought. _This kid's working the angles. He does_ not _trust us._

"Okay." Jim turned toward him. "His name's Mokuba. Still hasn't given me his family name, by the way. Says he and his brother were looking at computer games in UltraGear; his brother got distracted by some technical details, Mokuba got bored and decided to look around outside the store. He heard a girl yelling, and ran that way to see what was happening, and he's not sure what happened after that. He remembers a gunshot, and a _whumph_ \- that was probably the combustibles igniting - and closing his eyes. Next thing he knows, the paramedics had him."

"What's his brother's name?" Blair asked, giving Mokuba a friendly smile.

"He didn't say," Jim said dryly. Leaned in, and asked a quiet question.

Mokuba gulped, tears trickling down. "Seto." And latched onto Blair like a limpet, sobbing into the anthropologist's brown jacket.

_Great,_ Simon thought, feeling like an ogre. _Sometimes I hate this job. Bad enough what he's already been through today, we're going to have to pry information out of an... upset... little... kid...._

An upset little kid Jim was slanting a very skeptical look at - just as Simon caught Mokuba calculating the distance to the door again. A stretch of floor that was a lot clearer, now that Hendee had wilted out of the room and Houlihan was cooing at the kid from by the counter as she filled a paper cup with bottled water.

You didn't spend a couple years dealing with Sandburg without recognizing the signs. _Son of a... he's playing us!_

From the faint lines around Blair's eyes, the anthropologist saw it too. "So... does Seto have a phone number?"

Jim asked, and listened, and gave his partner a skeptical glance. "Says he's not sure he remembers it, but if we gave him a phone he could try."

"Why am I not surprised?" Blair muttered, rubbing Mokuba's back in slow, soothing circles as the kid polished off the water. "Okay, Jim. Any idea why this kid's afraid we might find out who his family is?"

Simon snorted. "Hell, Sandburg. It could just be he doesn't want to get his brother in trouble for not watching him." Though that didn't seem to ring right. Not with those real flickers of fear when Mokuba didn't have the tears turned on.

"I don't think so, Simon." Jim was watching Mokuba like a hawk. "If he left his brother, he'd be the one in trouble with his family. This is worse than that."

Blair's eyes widened. "He doesn't want somebody _else_ to find him."

Jim's head snapped up. Nostrils flared. "Somebody just did."

"You can't go in there!" Hendee protested from the hall.

"Get out of my way."

The voice was cold, precise. The words, English with the faintest of accents. The tone-

_Move. Or die. I don't care which_.

Jim had a hand near his gun. Simon snatched his cell, one speed-dial away from calling in the troops. Blair held Mokuba tight, ready to dive with Houlihan into cover.

And Mokuba's hands unclenched from Blair's jacket with a laugh of pure relief. "Nii-sama!"

A tall, chestnut-haired teen stalked through the door, a shadow in violet-wrapped black, cold gaze scanning the room like a blue laser. Overhead lights glinted off brass studs as he took in their stance, cast silver glimmers over his arms from steel-studded metallic wrist-guards. Were swallowed completely by the pure black of turtleneck, jeans, and boots, only to glint again from the inter-linked "KC" of his belt buckle... and the card-shaped locket at his neck.

_Hold him_ , Simon mouthed at Blair as Jim reacted to the unmistakable aura of _threat_ vibrating off the teen. "I take it you're Seto." Simon held out a friendly, professional hand. "Captain Banks, Cascade Major Crimes. Can you put us in touch with your parents? Your brother's a witness to a possible homicide, and we need to talk to a parent, or guardian-"

"I am his guardian." Seto walked past his hand as if it didn't exist, icy gaze fixed on tear-streaked blue. "Mokuba."

_Yeah, right._ Simon arched an eyebrow, waiting for the explosion. He'd seen the anthropologist with kids before. The idea that a scared little bundle like Mokuba would willingly leave Blair Sandburg for an ice statue like Seto-

And black hair slipped out of Blair's grip, launching into Seto's arms.

Strong hands caught him, shifted Mokuba's weight to his left arm. For one brief instant, the chestnut head was buried in a drift of black, chill eyes closed in pure, unfeigned relief-

And blue eyes snapped open, catching Simon in a glare no teenager should have been able to pull off in a million years.

_This is all that matters to me_ , cold eyes promised. _All that matters in the world. If you've hurt him, you'd better start running. Now._

_Damn._ Simon hid a dry swallow. _I thought the Ellison Glare only came one to a planet._

"Emancipated?" Jim put in neutrally. Hovering by his partner, as Blair gingerly edged back.

"Yes." Seto gripped his brother close as Mokuba whispered sobs into his shoulder. His free hand hovered near his hip, fingers twitching as if to grasp something slender. Reconsidered, and rested near his side.

_Ellison as peacemaker_ , Simon thought. _Never thought I'd see the day... what the hell was Seto reaching for? He doesn't have a gun. And he doesn't look like the kind of guy to carry a knife._ Though looks could be deceiving. "You telling me you're a legal adult?" Great, as if a grown-up Sandburg wasn't trouble enough. "Mind giving us your name, Mister...?"

Cool lips twitched, the barest flicker of a smirk. "Kaiba." Thinned again, as a red-faced Hendee straggled through the door. "Where are his effects?"

Hendee _hrmph_ ed. "That can wait, young man. Your brother's-"

"Leaving," Kaiba said evenly. "Now."

"Now see here...."

Cold blue narrowed.

Hendee licked his lips. "...We need your signature...." Dropping a clipboard on the counter, he fled.

Houlihan muttered something that sounded like suspiciously like "spineless" to Simon's ears. "Mr. Kaiba." The nurse looked up into that glare, and refused to quail. "As far as we can tell, your brother's not hurt. Physically. But he may have seen people hurt. He needs reassurance. He's going to be clingy, probably childish; he'll have nightmares, worse than you've ever seen-"

The smirk was back. "I doubt that."

"He told you he saw someone impaled by part of a truck roof," Jim said bluntly.

Blair's eyes went wide. Houlihan paled. Simon barely hid a shudder.

Kaiba didn't even flinch. "So he did."

_What the_ hell _is this kid?_ And why hadn't Blair jumped down his throat? Sandburg never let anyone treat a kid that way and get away with it.

Yet Blair was biting back his words, taking his cue from his partner. Who gave the Kaibas a long, considering look. Let out a slow breath. And nodded. "Okay," Jim said levelly. "Who are you, that he's a kidnap risk?"

Blue and merciless as a storm, Kaiba's gaze locked with his detective's. "Seto Kaiba. CEO of Kaiba Corporation."

Blair _eep_ ed.

Simon felt kind of like _eep_ ing himself. Ordinarily the name wouldn't have meant anything. He was a cop, not a hacker; the only time he worried about software was when some idiot in IA came down on him for people trying to 'improve' government systems with screensavers that verged on R-rated.

But given that earful he'd just gotten from the mayor's office?

_Oh, hell. We just found Questscape's visiting VIP_.

Who'd just gotten his first introduction to Cascade, Major Crimes style. God. The mayor was going to throw three kinds of fits.

Jim's voice dropped. "And how many bodies has your brother seen before today?"

"Enough." Kaiba picked up the paperwork, flipping through with a casual ease that spoke of long familiarity with English. Nodded once, laid the stack on the counter to sign off with a neat, efficient swirl of a pen, and handed the result to Houlihan with a slight incline of his head. And never once let go of Mokuba in the process. "Good day, Detectives. Nurse Houlihan."

_Great. Just great_ , Simon thought. "I'm afraid the day's not over yet, Mr. Kaiba." _Ellison. Think Ellison, and never back down._ "The mayor's very interested in the employment opportunities your company's contract with Questscape should bring to the Cascade area. Our department's been asked to provide you with an escort while you're here." _God help us all._

From the way laser-blue eyes narrowed, he was about to hear just what he could do with his escort-

"Kaiba-kun!" a cheery voice broke in. "Here you are!"

And for a second, Simon could have sworn he saw stunned panic in Kaiba's gaze. Stunned, _familiar_ panic; the sort of numb dread Simon had seen on one hard-headed sentinel's face when Sandburg had somehow knocked one more chip out of the wall of indifference Jim used to shut out the world. Brass-studded shoulders stiffened; storm-blue eyes widened by one slight hair's breadth.

To one who read Jim Ellison on a daily basis, it all but shouted, _Oh god, not him, get it away-_

"Yugi?" Mokuba blinked, then smiled at the very... _odd..._ short person who'd just come through the door.

Even with more years on the force than he liked to think about, Simon barely kept his jaw from dropping. Five foot, maybe five-one, slender and pale. Dressed in a heavy raincoat over dark blue leather, chains, and enough buckles to outfit a contingent of Army backpacks. And topping it all off-

"Wow," Blair breathed. "How'd you do that to your hair?"

Yugi brushed fingers through magenta-edged black spikes, absently tugged on one of the wavy gold bangs that fell into wide violet eyes. "Ano... it just is this way?"

_That's natural? No way._

"We got your message, Kaiba." The violet gaze was earnest. "Are both of you okay?"

Chestnut brows lifted a fraction; lowered in a furious scowl. "Yes."

Simon traded a glance with Blair. _Either Kaiba didn't send this kid a message, or he didn't want to_ , Simon thought. _But he's not going to call Yugi on it. What's going on here?_

Leather, a buckled neck-collar, and a carved gold upside-down pyramid dangling by a steel chain. Yugi _should_ have looked like a punk.

_Innocent_ , the captain thought, fighting a sudden urge to get Yugi the hell away from Kaiba. Deliberately _not_ shoving the spike-haired teen out of here... because hard and cold as Seto was, he'd finally put Mokuba down. Even if he did still have a wary hand on his brother's shoulder.

_Will you look at that. The Kaibas actually trust somebody._ "Jim?"

Ellison was eyeing the doorway, evidently listening out in the hall. _Trouble_ , he mouthed.

A silver-haired head poked in. "Coast looks clear to the elevator," a breathless British accent reported. "Though I think we'd be best off with the stairs, if we can; less chance of running into... ah. Hello." The silver-haired teen waved at them, forcing a smile that sorted oddly with his gray trench coat. Though it did seem to fit with the white sweater he was wearing under it. "Didn't know you had company."

"Friends of yours?" Houlihan asked, curious.

In anyone else, it would have been a flinch. "I know them." Kaiba glared at them both. "Ryou. Yugi. Tell me the mutt's not around the next corner."

"No, just us and Grandpa," Yugi shook his head. "He's downstairs. He said you might need a little help, if people got upset about your age. I mean, we were sure you could handle it, but...."

"I do beg your pardon," Ryou put in, chocolate eyes sliding away from Kaiba's glare to one only slightly less dangerous. "But is there something stuck to my coat? I believe I did walk by one very young lady with a peacock-blue marker, though I could have sworn she missed."

"She did," Jim said shortly. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Ryou Bakura," the slim teen obliged with a bow. "And this would be Yugi Mouto, our classmate. And you?"

"Detectives Ellison, Sandburg, and Captain Banks," Kaiba stated, eyes still snapping cold.

You didn't have to be a sentinel to catch the sudden tremor in that slender frame. "Really." Smiling weakly, Ryou pulled a bulky hospital paper bag from under his trench coat and presented it to Mokuba with both hands.

Opening the bag, the kid grinned. _"Sugoi!"_ Snatched his clothes, and bolted for the bathroom just off this room.

"How did you know where his clothes were?" Blair asked, curious.

_This should be good_ , Simon thought, seeing a fine edge of panic creep into Ryou's expression. _These kids are covering something. Something big._

"I find that speed is better protection than guns, Captain Banks," Kaiba cut in. "I'm certain your officers have far more critical cases to attend to. Don't waste my time by reassigning them." He knocked once on the bathroom door. "Mokuba?"

"Ready, nii-sama!"

_"Ready?"_ Blair and Houlihan exclaimed as one.

"He speaks English," Simon sighed as the door opened and Mokuba skipped out. _It figures._

"I wonder if Questscape knows that?" Jim gave Kaiba a cynical look.

Kaiba smirked. And stalked out into the hall, Mokuba and a wary Ryou in his wake.

Yugi fell in behind them, leaving with one last, polite bow. "Nice meeting you."

"Jim?" Blair asked.

Ellison held up a finger; _wait_. Glanced Houlihan's way. "Agnes, please?"

"Work your magic, Detective. I saw nothing." Her pager beeped; glancing at the number, the nurse hustled toward the elevator.

"They're in the stairwell," Jim murmured, as Blair put a hand on his arm to ground him. "Mokuba's saying something about he tried to call Yugi, he saw the mirror wall go up and he knew his brother would be hurt - damn, Kaiba just cut him off."

"He knew _Kaiba_ would be hurt?" Simon scowled. Granted, Kaiba had looked a little tired, but he'd expect that of anybody who'd misplaced their little brother under these conditions. And what the heck was a mirror wall?

"Kaiba's saying that Ryou being here explains _how_ they found him, he wants to know why. They couldn't have gotten here from Japan, even if Yugi - huh. That word wasn't Japanese. Yugi says they didn't have to, they were already here...." Ellison stopped. "And they just met up with Yugi's Grandpa, and they're on their way out."

"Bakura found them?" Simon said in disbelief. But then... the white-haired teen had somehow found Mokuba's clothes. Why not the kid as well?

Blair eyed his partner as Jim got out from under his hand. "And you're not surprised."

"They all smelled like ozone, Chief. Like you do, when you pull me out of a deep zone."

"Ozone?" _Do I really want to know?_ Simon wondered.

Yes, he did. Alex, damn her catatonic hide, would never have gotten the chance to drown Blair if those two hadn't been trying to handle the Sentinel thing all on their own. If he wanted his detectives in one piece, he had to know.

"Like Ms. Santiago after she channels Oshun," Jim went on reluctantly. "When people do something... really weird, Simon, they smell like ground zero of a lightning strike." He pointed where Mokuba had been sitting. "It was just a trace around him. I wasn't sure at first. When Kaiba walked in, it got stronger. Then Mouto and Bakura-" Jim shook his head. "It was all over those two, Blair."

"Which is why Mokuba was lying to us," Blair nodded. "He's protecting them."

Simon scowled. "He didn't even know they were here, Sandburg."

Blair waved it off. "He knew Kaiba was."

Huh, Simon thought. Like Kaiba _needed_ protecting.

Then again, so did Jim.

"What else?" Simon asked pointedly. Something had set off the cop, not just the sentinel.

"Bakura's carrying knives," Jim said shortly. "The serious kind. Tools in his pockets; the kind we could probably take him downtown for. And I think he was hiding a razor wire in that hair."

Simon's eyebrows climbed. _That_ kid was carrying knives? Heck, a strong wind could knock him over! "And you didn't shake him down?"

"Three on three wasn't good odds." Jim shook his head. "Not with Mokuba likely to jump in the middle as soon as we put Kaiba against the wall."

And he'd thought the day couldn't get worse. Looks really _were_ deceiving. Bakura, definitely, Kaiba he could believe - but Mouto? "They were _all_ carrying?"

Jim nodded grimly. "Though the way Kaiba walks, I'm guessing he uses hand-to-hand more than blades. Yugi - I have no clue, Simon. Something about that kid is just _wrong_."

"Scent, taste, touch...?" Blair prompted.

"Scent," Jim said slowly. "There was another scent around them. Something I smelled after the blast. Only it was burned there." His jaw clenched. "I don't know what it is. Sort of like paper, but not."

"Don't push it." Blair rocked on his heels, thinking. "Our classmate?"

Jim grinned. "Just because the Japanese government considers Kaiba an adult doesn't mean he gets to miss out on the great experience we call high school, Blair."

"If by great experience you mean hideous torture, then yeah, I can believe that...."

Simon's cell phone rang, dragging him away from the incipient argument. "Banks."

"Simon?" Joel Taggert sounded tired, annoyed, and more than a little confused. "We're done at the scene. You guys heading back to the department any time soon?"

Simon skewed a glance Blair's way, caught the guide's nod. "Could be there inside fifteen. Why?"

Joel laughed, more in frustration than humor. "You guys have _got_ to see this."

"Okay," Simon said dryly a short ride later, as Joel and Inspector Megan Connor called up digital photos of various angles of the alley blast on a Major Crimes computer and spread a marked sketch over Blair's desk. "Enlighten me. What am I looking at?"

"I don't know."

"Joel...."

The dark ex-bomb expert shook his head. "I know what it looks like, Simon, but it doesn't make any sense. That's why I wanted Jim to see this. Maybe he'll catch something we missed."

Jim traced a rough curve on the sketch. "This is where you found the survivors?"

"According to the EMTs, yeah."

"From the witness reports, young Mokuba Kaiba would have been right here." Megan stabbed a finger behind the center of the curve. "The others were farther back in this area, while our injured Miss Doe was right on the edge of... well, whatever seems to have halted the blast in its tracks. Unlucky for her."

"Whoa. Wait a minute." Blair switched between photos, glasses on as he focused on screen and sketch. "You think something stopped the blast? Like what?"

"I didn't say that." Joel held up a warning hand. "All I'm saying is, at that perimeter, right in front of where your kid was standing, for a height of about six feet, all the debris stops. All the shrapnel that should have passed through that area stops, right there. It's lying on the ground, and it's flattened - and it did _not_ get flung where it should have been."

"So something stopped the blast." Blair frowned. "Like what?"

"Dead air? How the hell should I know?" Joel's fingers clawed, as if he wanted to reach into the computer screen and throttle something. "All I know is, I've seen a hundred blast sites. And this pattern doesn't make sense."

"He's right." Jim called up a picture of a particularly contorted scrap of van metal. "If this is how you found it, Joel, this is the damage it took getting blasted out." He opened the next picture, of the crumpled mass where a ragged edge should have been. "And this is what happened when it hit something. Like this one." He called up another pair of images, shrapnel from blast side and impact. "And this...."

"Wait a second," Blair tapped the screen on the image of a bent pipe. "They look different."

"It wasn't moving as fast when it hit, so it didn't take as much damage," Joel shrugged.

"Or perhaps, it wasn't about to _do_ as much damage?" Megan suggested.

"Connor...." Simon growled.

"She might have something, Simon." Jim peered at the screen, eyes dilated. Flipped through a pair of photos of blast damage as Blair put a steadying hand on his shoulder. And another. And another....

Three minutes later, he blinked and looked up. "Your shrapnel didn't just hit something, Joel. It slowed down when it hit. And it was hit back."

"Are you sure?" Megan peered over his unoccupied shoulder.

"It's like the force got split in half." Jim frowned at the inexplicable photos. "Somehow, in this one spot, the blast got turned back on itself."

"Reflected," Blair said softly.

And Simon felt a headache to rival the mayor threaten the back of his skull. "By a mirror wall?"

"Mirror what?" Joel looked at them both, confused.

"Something Mokuba said on the way out," Jim explained shortly. "Something Kaiba didn't want him to talk about." The detective's fingers gripped the edge of the desk. "What the heck is _sedjem-ek khenmet-shewet?_ "

"Egyptian," Blair said absently.

"I've heard Arabic, Blair," Jim objected.

"And I thought they were Japanese?" Megan ventured. "Though from what you've said of him, your Bakura sounds as if he might be British as well. Not common, that."

"It's not Arabic." The anthropologist took his glasses off, rubbing a finger along an ear-piece as he thought. "Yugi's pendant had a Horus Eye on it. Like Kaiba's locket. I don't know what Kaiba said, but I know that's Ancient Egyptian..."

"What eye?" Simon frowned. Sure, Yugi's pyramid had an eye; carved, gold, and more than a little freaky. But Kaiba's locket looked just like his brother's, a playing card with an intricate brown swirl on the back. No eye in sight. "Jim?" Simon watched the detective move to another computer, calling up the department's Chinatown database. Vice tended to put all the Asian crimes in one place; half the Tong and Yakuza types out there couldn't speak two words to each other, but money made one heck of a translator.

"Bakura, Simon. I've heard that name. Somewhere. Romanization might have mixed up the spelling, but - hah. Got you."

Bakura, no personal name given, Simon read. "Since when do you worry about the fences talking to their pals overseas?"

"Thief, see _psycho?_ " Megan's eyes widened at that little shred of someone's notes. "It can't be the same person."

"You hear Jim list off what he was carrying?" Simon said pointedly. "You're a cop, Megan. I don't know how Australian kids grow up, but being a teenager doesn't make him any less dangerous-"

Blair's yelp cut off Banks' set lecture number 35 on Young And Cute Does Not Equal Harmless. "Ah, guys?" The anthropologist waved a phone. "I was checking to see if Eli or anyone else in the Anthro department left a message, before I try calling someone on what Jim heard, and, well..."

"Ah, this is Yugi Mouto," a newly familiar voice came from the recording. "Dr. Sandburg? My grandfather, Solomon Mouto, asked me to call you about the Hayashibara texts...."

Taggert smothered a chuckle. Turned to Megan, and held out a hand.

Sighing, the Australian slapped a five-dollar bill into it. "I should have known."


	3. Chapter 3

_Somewhere, somehow, someone in this city is having a worse week than I am._ Ryou leaned his head on his hand as he settled at the Bayside Park picnic table. _But not by much._

Malicious snickering still echoed through his mind, courtesy of one long-dead, aggravating as a gym coach with a toothache, damnable tomb robber. /Heh heh heh... "I'm not a sorcerer. I can't do magic. I don't remember Egypt." And the second you stress him enough - "hearing Shadow's kiss", indeed. Oh yes, Seto. He heard. Anyone with ears to hear heard you call on the Shadow Realm... just as anyone with eyes to see knows you're the pharaoh's creature now..../

"You didn't have to rub his nose in it, yami," Ryou mumbled into his hand, remembering the way Yugi's words had tripped over each other as he tried to head off the verbal explosion, the cold rage on Seto's face as the CEO dropped them all off within screaming distance of Solomon's hotel. It still felt odd, hearing Ancient Egyptian as easily as English or Japanese.

Though possibly the strangest part of sharing his mind and body with the Ring's spirit was how it was beginning to _not_ be odd, anymore. Rain was wet. Sodas were sweet. School was tedious.

And Bakura was a constant, night and fire and homicidal glee _presence_ woven into his soul. Snickering.

/Hah! Kaiba's marked and he knows it, hikari. You saw the Horus Eye on his locket, clear as I did. Yami has him - and the pharaoh never lets go. Not of anything. Not of anyone./

Ryou shivered against the misty wind, recalling that subtle sense of the Puzzle's magic echoing from Kaiba. "Yami doesn't own him!" _Not like you sometimes think you own me..._

Bakura snorted, taking just enough control of their body to scan the park for suspicious characters. Besides the short pair now approaching their claimed table. /I _do_ own you, baka. Much as we both might wish otherwise. Ka and ba, we're stuck with each other, just like the pharaoh and his damn hikari./

"Ryou?" Yugi rested a hand on the corner of the picnic table, spiked hair tilted in gentle question. "Are you planning to stay?"

/Are we, yami?/

The Ring was silent.

"For now, I think," Ryou sighed. "If you don't mind, Mouto-san?"

"I'd feel better if you did, frankly." The smile flashed white against the older man's gray beard. "From all I've heard Bakura's a resourceful fellow, but anyone can find themselves in difficulty in a foreign country. I certainly have, and I've been in the States often enough to speak American English."

A quiet snarl echoed in the corridor of Ryou's soul rooms. /Hmph. English is English./

/It's not, and you know it, yami,/ Ryou corrected hesitantly. /You wouldn't have... used the accent of Thebes when you were trying to pass unnoticed in Kush, would you?/

The tomb robber snorted. /Hikari, I'd have had as much chance of passing unnoticed in Kush as a single turquoise counter in a tray full of ebony. Accent or no accent./

"Still, I'll ask that neither of you listen in on my conversation with Dr. Sandburg," Solomon went on, turning a serious gaze on Yugi. "The Hayashibara texts aren't widely accessible. We may be speaking on some confidential matters in his field."

"Hayashibara texts?" Ryou tried to look innocent, even as curiosity woke and sparked. If this were in any way related to Ellison and Sandburg... his yami had heard some intriguing stories of that pair, indeed.

"A very old work, by an herbalist named Matsu," Solomon elaborated. "No one thought it was very important; it starts out with herbal lore and astronomical observations as applied to various people he treated, in a form that indicates it might have been written for reference in judicial trials. But a friend of mine recently went back to do a more thorough translation, and, well... nowadays we might call it a case notebook. It specifically recounts various matters Matsu looked into while assisting his companion, the samurai Harue. If it weren't for the obvious folkloric elements woven into the text, it could be a significant account of sixteenth-century criminal investigation."

"Folkloric?" Yugi prompted. "You mean, magic?"

"You could think of it that way. Harue's recorded as having found a thread of scarlet cloth in an orchard of fallen leaves. Scenting a drop of fugu left on the scene by a fleeing ninja. Falling for a kitsune involved in a plot against another lord. Being led by ghosts to a young woman's corpse, spirits Matsu laid to rest once their duty was done..." Solomon gave him a very young grin. "Of course, any proper anthropologist would know none of that could ever have happened, wouldn't he?"

Ryou couldn't help but laugh. Spirits had been part of his life since his father had given him the Ring. So much for folktales not being real.

"Yami says it sounds familiar, but he can't place it." Yugi looked down, frustrated once more by the scattered shreds of the pharaoh's memory. "He says... Harue should have been watching the stars?"

/ _Saew-seba_ ,/ Bakura murmured. /It could well be./

_"Saew-seba?"_ Ryou repeated, puzzled.

/And if Matsu wasn't his _seshem_ , I'll eat that annoying concoction you call ketchup./

" _Saew-seba_ and _seshem_." Yugi's eyes were distant, a flash of scarlet there and gone in violet. "The Guard of Stars and his Guide. Those who... watch for the danger...." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Grandpa. We can't find it."

Ryou felt the first warning tug on his spirit, forced his hand away from the Ring. /Yami! You promised!/

Bakura growled, pacing the corridor between their soul rooms. /I said if you didn't fight me, I wouldn't _force_ you out of control, so long as we weren't in danger. Which we _will_ be, if the old man slips and says something he shouldn't! Do you want them not to know, yadonushi? Yami's in as much peril as we are. More, likely. The baka pharaoh might not realize a Star-guard could be an enemy until it was too late!/

/...All right./

Bakura stretched, luxuriating in the feel of a body willingly yielded. Chuckled malevolently at the sudden tension radiating from a form that was no longer Yugi's. "Truce, pharaoh. If Sandburg's _seshem_ enough to want those texts, you'll need to avoid him just as much as I."

"What do you mean?"

Fingers clenched on painted wood, violet eyes suddenly darkened as if lined with kohl... oh yes. Definitely Yami. Though for once, the King of Games seemed to be hovering on the edge of polite. "Unlike you, pharaoh, I don't travel without checking the underground's tales first. And most of those whispered from Cascade revolve around two detectives: Ellison and Sandburg." Bakura smirked at Solomon. "It's said since Ellison first picked up that anthropologist as a ride-along, he can see things he shouldn't. Find evidence that should have been lost and buried. Track better than the department bloodhounds. Perhaps this sounds familiar?"

The pharaoh looked through him, eyes almost closed as he searched out what Tristan swore were only shattered scraps of memory. " _Saew-seba_ and _seshem_. Gifted to enforce _ma'at_ , in this world and the next."

"You're saying Dr. Sandburg may be able to affect spirits." Solomon rested a hand on his satchel of notes, looked away.

"And you're not surprised." A low growl rumbled in Bakura's throat. "What do you know, old man?"

/Bakura!/ Ryou said warningly.

/I will _not_ walk unarmed into danger, hikari!/ came the vicious snarl. /Not for you. Not for anyone! You heard Yugi's tale of Bayville; you know what will happen if anyone severs us!/

Oh yes, he knew. Bakura would be trapped, as Yami almost had been; fighting for hours to find Yugi before the Puzzle could draw him back inside itself and leave their body tenantless and dying. The Ring would become a cold, empty prison once more, a place of shadows and darkness that had all but driven Bakura mad the first time it had seized his spirit. And Ryou....

_I'd be lost again._ Ryou huddled in the center of his soul room, not even able to take comfort from the soft-winged Change of Heart plush-toy by his side. _The way I was before I ever picked up the Ring, when I'd ache inside and never know why. Lonely, and... no magic, and... empty...._

/It won't happen./ Grim determination, wrapping around their link like a steely caress, a kiss of bloodstained lips. /I won't let it happen. You're _mine_./

Ryou rolled mental eyes. _And you say the pharaoh's possessive._

"I have reason to believe that Sandburg's family has a history of magic," Solomon said carefully. "And of interacting with spirits. Outside of that, Bakura, I know very little. That's why I wanted to meet him instead of simply sending these accounts through the mail." He sighed, checking his watch. "They'll be here soon. How far away do you think you need to be, to be safe?"

Gold flashed, and Yugi looked back at them. "Yami thinks out of sight should do, but...."

"It should," Bakura acknowledged grudgingly. "We need to avoid the Guide, not the Guard. Ellison will know you and Ryou were here, any creature that can trail _me_ across the desert for two weeks couldn't fail to miss that. But the Guard needs to be face to face to see a spirit. He should miss us if we're not in control."

"And Blair Sandburg?" Solomon's gaze was troubled.

Amber eyes narrowed. "I don't know," Bakura bit out. "The last time I encountered a Guide, I was embodied. The Items cloak the spirits within them. To a degree. I _believe_ he missed us in the hospital."

"Either that, or he didn't, and this is a trap," Yugi added, stepping back from the table. "Be careful, Grandpa."

Bakura smirked as he retreated to the Ring. /Looks like the pharaoh's rubbing off on his little hikari. About time. No one should be _that_ innocent./

/Oh, grow up,/ Ryou said crossly, flexing his fingers just to be sure he had control. /You don't Duel if you can't see traps coming./ He drew in a damp breath, delightfully surprised at one of the scents carried on the wind. "Is that hot dogs?"

Yugi craned his head down the path, trying to catch a glimpse of what might be going on past screening trees. "I think so."

"Go on," Solomon smiled as his grandson hugged him. "I'll be fine. Whatever else they are, they are police officers." His hand caught Yugi's before it could trace a symbol. "And _no_ warding spells, Yami. If he can sense magic on me, all I want him to find is mine."

Yugi blushed.

* * *

  
Fierce arms crossed. Teeth ground. "I don't like it."

"Jim." Blair sighed, casting a glance toward the small old man waiting by the picnic table half a clearing away. "If we want some answers, we've got to start somewhere."

The sentinel drew in a sniff of air. "Yugi and Ryou were here. Recently." He cocked an ear in a direction Blair thought was probably north. Or east. Or something like that. "They're getting hot dogs."

"Gee. Sound like dangerous teenage maniacs to me," Blair muttered. "Will you _relax?_ "

The detective glared. "Mouto just happens to have a text on Japanese sentinels, and you want me to relax?"

"First off, he doesn't _just happen_ to have it," Blair pointed out patiently. "Eli asked him to look for something like this a few months ago. Solomon Mouto's pretty well known in Japanese anthropological and archaeological circles. He used to work as a hand on a couple of Egyptian digs; there's a solid rumor he even funded one by poker games."

That snapped Jim out of sensory-search mode. Blue eyes shot him a disbelieving glance. "You're kidding."

"Hey, in the early nineteen-hundreds, a paleontologist down in South America did the same thing," Blair grinned. "Who knows what quests for knowledge may ride on the turn of a card?"

"So that's how you keep killing us on Friday nights."

"Naomi calls it a gift," Blair shrugged. His wayward, redheaded mother always had a wistful look when she said that; as if she saw not his hands shuffling the deck, but someone else's.

But then she'd smile, and tease him about pushing his luck, and start asking if his colleagues in the academic world had done any research into how often past life regressions pulled up Egyptian memories, and wouldn't that actually be more likely than less? Egypt had been such a stable empire for so long, after all; so many souls might have lived there, to journey on into today.

_Yeah, right. Actually statistically compile the claimed ethnicity of past lives? Mom, you overestimate the scientific mind._ "Anyway. Mouto may run a game shop now, but he still joins in some pretty hefty discussion groups, especially when it comes to legends of people dealing with spirits. If anybody was going to run across a Sentinel story, he would."

"And second?"

Blair glanced toward Mouto. "Does he look dangerous?"

Jim sighed. "Let's go."

_I can see where Yugi got his height_ , Blair thought, approaching the smaller man. _And his hair._ Under his black cap, Solomon's soft gray hair stuck out in the same unruly, spiky waves that defied gravity on his grandson's head. A satchel of notes rested on the picnic table, and short, broad hands toyed with the top buttons of his navy-blue coat, opening enough of a gap to Cascade's thin afternoon warmth for Blair to catch a glimpse of white shirt under his scarf.

_Nervous_ , Blair thought, feeling his partner tense. _Why?_ "Mr. Mouto?

A smile creased the older man's violet eyes as he took Blair's hand American-style. "Solomon, if you will, Dr. Sandburg. And your friend would be?"

"Jim Ellison." The detective wasn't looming, exactly. But Blair could still see a tightness in his jaw.

"Blair's fine." The anthropologist shook and let go, curious despite himself about the thick manuscript he could see peeking out of the corner of the bag. "This is it?"

"Copies, yes," Solomon affirmed, pulling out various bound pages. "You'll understand, there was no way the current holders would let the originals out of the country."

"Hey, I can't blame 'em." Blair opened a page, running fingers over the unfamiliar shapes of the ancient Japanese script. "Have you read this?"

"In translation, yes." Solomon chuckled. "I'm afraid old Japanese isn't my area of expertise. Now if it were hieratic, I wouldn't have a problem, but... well. The grass always does seem greener elsewhere, doesn't it?"

Jim studied the game shop owner. "You've spent a lot of time abroad."

"Years, now and again," Solomon admitted. "Though I haven't been out of Domino City for quite some time. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on the road again." His violet gaze swept the park, drinking in the sights of a place an ocean away from Japan. Returned to Blair. "Will this be helpful in your research? Naomi said there had been some difficulties, though she didn't elaborate-"

"You know my mom?" Blair blurted, hearing an almost subliminal rumble from his partner. "I thought _Eli_ asked you-" He swallowed. _Mom, you got mixed up with my thesis once. What have you done now?_

"Dr. Stoddard did contact me," Solomon said warily, eyes flicking up to the angry detective behind Blair. "After Naomi asked him if there was anything she could do to make amends. For what, he didn't tell me. Nor would she; after she determined I was who I said I was, she gave me your address, and last I could locate her she was on retreat up in Canada. I've been trying to call her, but I suspect her current refuge doesn't allow phones."

Ellison drew in a deep breath, ice-chip eyes narrowed-

_Oh man, you are_ so _not dissing my mom. Even if she did something so - you're just_ not, _Jim. Leave it. Please?_

And Jim stopped, and let the breath go. Studied Solomon all over again, as if he weren't quite sure what he was seeing. His shoulders stiffened, but his voice stayed level. "We missed each other in the hospital."

"So we did," Solomon acknowledged. "It's just as well. I don't think..." He sighed. "This is harder to say than I thought." Drawing his coat around him, he settled on the bench, leaning back against the table wearily. "Detective, if you could perhaps give us a few moments?"

"I'm family." Jim laid a hand on his shoulder. "Blair. Sit down."

"Jim?" _What's going on?_

A firm shove planted him on the far end of the bench. "You didn't want Yugi to know." Ellison's tone was careful as Joel examining a booby trap.

"The last year has been - difficult," Solomon acknowledged. "He's seventeen. Some of his friends were in... accidents, recently. Most recently this morning, as you well know. And while everyone's safe now, I didn't want to unload this on him on top of everything else. Not until I'd had some time." He met the detective's gaze frankly. "Is it that obvious?"

Jim's smile was wry. "Only if you know what you're looking for."

"Jim?" Blair asked, more forcefully. _You're freaking me out, partner._

Jim squeezed his shoulder gently. "I think Solomon's got a story for you."

"Where to start." Solomon folded his hands in front of him. "Well. Many years ago, there was a wandering young gambler. A blot on his family, one might say; but they loved him, and never gave up hope that he would eventually return to be the honest, upright son his parents expected. Though all who knew the young man swore it would take a miracle." Solomon dropped them both a wry wink. "But miracles do happen! One day when he was wandering through Tokyo in search of yet another game, he saw a vision that must have been sent from Kuan Yin herself. A quiet young lady with hair like a fall of midnight, and a voice like an angel strayed from heaven. Her name was Ai. And he brought her home, and they married, and had a handsome son, and were very, very happy."

Blair caught the bittersweet cant of the older man's shoulders, and swallowed. "Miracles... don't always last."

"No. No, they don't," Solomon nodded. "The gambler's family was known for luck, but earthquakes... well, earthquakes are more chance than luck. So he was... I was... left with a grief too deep for words, and a growing son whose every feature echoed my beloved Ai." Solomon sighed. "So I left him with my family, and I roamed the world once more. Gambling my way as I went; games are like breath to me, I rarely lose. It's a - family trait."

"Uh-huh," Jim nodded, not surprised. "And you came to America."

"Eventually, yes."

Blair switched his gaze between both of them. "Okay, somebody want to clue me in here?"

"He's getting to it, partner."

_Houston, we have Jim in soothing mode_ , Blair realized, confused. _This is never good._

Solomon swallowed dryly, bringing out an old, worn photograph. "She was young, and she was following her heart, and she smiled at me like dawn and rainbows. Both of us knew it wouldn't last, but the week was all we wanted. Just time to heal. Just arms to hold, and another heart beside you that had been broken, and peace." He leaned forward, hands cradling the image. "Then she went her way, and I mine, and I didn't return to Japan until my family told me they were about to start arranging marriage dates for Ai's son. And if I wanted any say in the matter - if I didn't want to be dead to the family forever - I'd come home right now."

Blair couldn't breathe. The girl in the photo with her arms around a much younger, magenta-haired Solomon was young, and redheaded, and had a smile he knew as well as his own. _Oh._

"But I made a mistake."

_No_.

"I left Naomi addresses, numbers with which to contact me... but I was always moving. All I'd given her went to my family first."

_Please, no_.

"And they told her I was dead." Large eyes - so familiar, only the color was unfamiliar - sought his own. "Blair, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Until Naomi contacted Eli, until he thought of me, and she recognized my name... I _didn't know_."

_This can't be happening._ "J-jim?"

His partner nodded, brushed a subtle finger near his nose. "I think so, Chief."

_I can't breathe. I can't...._

And his partner's hand was pushing his head down near his knees, the detective's usual hard tone softened to the voice he used with shocked victims. "In and out, Blair. Keep it slow. In. Out. In...."

_Focus_ , Blair told himself. _I am letting this go. I am letting this go... the_ hell _I am!_ "You came here. You came here with _this_ -" he thumped a hand on the bound pages, "-to tell me you're my _father?_ "

Solomon winced. "Yes," he said softly.

_Oh god_.

"And I came here to get Yugi out of Domino City for a while," Solomon went on. "Not that trying seems to have done me any good, given that Ryou and the Kaibas ended up here... Detective?"

Jim's hand squeezed on his, as Blair saw the focused tilt of head that meant his sentinel was listening to something. "How the hell did your grandson find a giant snake in Cascade?"

* * *

  
"Hmm. I thought it was down this corridor..." Yami paced the twisting halls of his soul room, questing after the whisper of a memory, an echo that said _seshem_. So much of his past, hidden from his view. So much that felt simply _lost_ , gather what shards he might.

At times he didn't know if he'd reclaimed true memories, or simply conjured shadows from the fragments he and Yugi had gathered from enemies and so-called allies alike. He thought he'd been a good person, a good pharaoh, and yet....

Such hate around the Millennium Items. So many seeking the power of the Puzzle that held him, the magic only the pharaoh's reborn Light had rightful claim to. Could a good man have been the cause of such misery?

Bakura's charge that the Items had been formed by dark magic had shaken him to the core. More when Tristan's memories seemed to confirm its truth.

_Yet Tristan claims I did not know. That I myself set Tetien, his past life, to the task of uncovering the truth. I could not have done so and been guilty of such crimes._

_Could I?_

"Snake," echoed through the Puzzle, a shivery echo from the outside world. Yugi's voice. Yugi's trembling, tugging on his link, even as his hikari mustered his courage to face the danger.

" _Big_ snake...." Ryou's gulp, and an echo of ebony magic-

Yami's head snapped up, search forgotten. The tomb robber was awake! If he'd harmed-

/Help!/

_Yu-Gi-Oh!_

And they were as one, facing a creature that should not have been.

A thirty-foot emerald python wrapped massive coils around a park sign, scaled wings flapping to raise its head above the height of a man. Fangs tore into metal, spitting out a shredded _Beautified by Questscape, Pres-_

/Sinister Serpent,/ Yugi murmured as Yami drew back, dimly aware of Bakura circling the other way, dagger in hand. /Attack 300, Defense 250. Not a strong monster..../

_But we can't use magic, aibou. Not if we wish to pass unnoticed._ Yami slipped a hand into his coat, plucking out the strongest of the knives Grandpa had finally relented and allowed them to carry. Tristan had helped there, pointing out that the Yami he remembered had been almost as good with a blade as Bakura... and much as Yugi tried to avoid fighting, danger would not stop looking for them. Not every foe was vulnerable to a Mind Crush.

_Duel Monsters, for one. And that's a very big snake._

A snake currently preoccupied with crushing the sign to twisted metal, before uncurling to thrash through the path, hurling dirt and clods of turf into the air. Hate rippled from each flex of scaled muscle, radiated like choking heat.

/Yami, is that-?/

_Energy, gathering to touch the Shadow Realm_ , Yami nodded, circling nearer. Keeping track of Bakura out of the corner of his eye as the tomb robber moved in as well. For once they had a common goal. One Serpent was peril enough. If there were two....

"Set's teeth, who called that thing?" Bakura snarled.

Serpent eyes glowed ruby. A red tongue flicked, lunged-

_Isis, it's fast!_

And the world narrowed to emerald coils crushing Bakura, massive jaws lunging down-

Yami leaped, seized a scaled wing. Climbed thrashing muscle, clinging onto the emerald neck for dear life as the Serpent forgot biting in its efforts to fling him clear. _Oh, Ra...._

A stream of choked Egyptian profanity hit his ears. He heard Bakura's dagger bite into tender flesh; the Serpent hissed, coiled tighter, whipped out-

And a white bolt of pain impacted Yami's back; jagged remnants of the signpost tearing his coat, catching in his leather shirt. _Ahhh!_

_Enough!_

Legs tangled around emerald neck and wings, Yami slipped one arm under the fanged jaws. Picked his spot, and thrust-

The Serpent shrieked like tearing metal, violet mist boiling out from where Yami's knife had pierced the base of its spine. Wailed, muscle and bone turning faint and insubstantial as a dawn breeze.

_Shimatta!_

Yami hit the ground rolling, avoiding his own blade by a hand's breadth.

/Erk./ Yugi gazed out of his eyes, watching very carefully as Yami wiped dirt and fading Shadows from steel. /Um... maybe we better not tell Grandpa about that one?/

_No argument here, aibou._ Yami sheathed his knife, drawing a deep breath. He was in no real hurry to get up; the ground was lumpy, but comfortable. Though... where in the worlds had the tomb robber gotten to?

His perch vibrated with a cough. "Get _off_ me, pharaoh!"

/ _Oops._ /

Glaring, Bakura managed to sit up, chest still heaving. He tried to brush bits of leaf and dirt out of his hair, a breathless stream of curses whispering from him as twigs snagged in silver knots. "Baka pharaoh... never knows when to run... damn _fool_...."

"Save your breath. Ryou needs it." Yami snagged the fingers of one hand in silver locks, used the other to reach for the most tangled bits of shrubbery. "Hold still."

A pale hand dove for a blade. "You dare-!"

Yami forced himself not to react. "You know I won't harm Ryou, Bakura. Hold still, unless you want Solomon attacking your hair with a comb and scissors tonight."

The silver head froze. "A low blow, pharaoh. Even for you."

Yami began working a twig out of a white knot. "Would you feel better if Yugi took over?"

Bakura's snarl vibrated under his fingers. "I prefer my enemies where I can see them."

/So I'm not an enemy?/ Yugi leaned against the wall of his soul room, smiling wistfully. /I guess that's something. Think we're getting somewhere?/

A smirk crept onto Yami's face as he teased out the last bits of debris, avoiding the razor wire Bakura kept hidden in Ryou's hair. He kept his fingers moving in the drift of silver, drawing Yugi within his mind as together they sought out tense knots of muscle along the tomb robber's neck. _Possibly, aibou. Just possibly. After all, look._

/Aww... kawaii!/ Yugi grinned as Bakura unconsciously leaned back into the subtle massage, amber eyes losing some of their feral fire. /How'd you know this would work?/

_Believe me, it works. Especially on one who thinks he can seal a piece of his soul in the Puzzle and not be affected by our bond._ Yami shared his hikari's grin. _Try it on Tea sometime._

/.../ Shy embarrassment rushed up their link, colored by a vivid image of Tea Gardner leaning into the same gentle touch; the dancer's dark hair drifting over his hands, blue eyes closed and smiling. /...Um..../

_Or you_ could _practice on Joey. He could use a little stress relief._

/!/ Yami felt his aibou dive under a pile of plush toys in his soul room, blushing madly. /Yami! Mai would kill us!/

_Why? We're friends. Don't friends comfort one another in this modern world?_

/Yaaamiiii!/ Exasperated violet eyes blinked out of a pile of plush. /Forget Mai! Any second now Bakura's going to realize you already got the twigs out, and then _he's_ going to kill us!/

_He could try._ Chuckling, Yami drew his fingers out of soft silver-

And felt a very quiet, very familiar presence disturbing the Puzzle, accompanied by a subtle tremor of magic he'd felt only once before. /Bakura, get Ryou out here! Yugi, take over-/

"Freeze, Cascade PD!"

"Detective!" Solomon tried to get in front of Detective Ellison, only to be drawn back by a pale and shaken Blair Sandburg. "That's my grandson!"

"Solomon, that's not Yugi." Blair was staring at them both, cell phone in a white-knuckled grip. "Don't ask me how, but it's _not_ Yugi. And it's definitely not Ryou."

_Damn._ Instinct told him to stay in control, call the Shadows, protect his hikari-

But Yami fought that instinct, retreating so Yugi could hold up empty hands toward the nice, helpful, armed policemen. /Be careful, aibou./

/Always./ "Grandpa?" Yugi blinked, deliberately innocent. "What's going on?"

Solomon let out a breath, even as Yami heard a sigh behind him that meant Ryou was in control once more. "I believe they thought you two were someone else."

"They were," Ellison bit out, quartering the clearing.

"Well, that's one I hadn't heard before." Ryou traded a glance with Yugi, let out a shaky laugh. "Who else could we possibly be?"

"There were two of you," Blair blurted.

"Blair?" Ellison didn't glance up from his scan of the clearing, picking up twisted metal with a dark scowl.

"Just for a second, I could have sworn I saw...." The anthropologist shook his head. "It's crazy."

"Crazy or not, I know what I saw." Ellison glared at both hikaris. "Snakes don't have red glowing eyes. They don't have wings. And they definitely do _not_ just turn into mist and vanish!"

/He saw all that?/ Yugi winced. /I didn't think anyone was that close./

/He likely wasn't,/ Yami noted. /Guards have sight better than a Horus falcon./

"And ozone. I know what I saw. Now you two are going to tell me why I saw it." Ellison holstered his gun, but his gaze was grim.

"You saw a snake with wings vanish." Ryou gave his best embarrassed chuckle. "Really, Detective. What _have_ you been on?"

"Don't try to tell me-"

"They really might not remember, Jim," Blair put in quickly. Studying the two before him a moment more, before he turned to Solomon. "How long have you known they have alters?"

Solomon drew back, a flicker of calculation in his gaze. "What?"

"It's not DID, those were definitely 'others', so... MPD," the anthropologist said frankly. "I don't know what you'd call it in Japan. They've got more than one personality, don't they?" He nodded, taking in the torn clothes, the innocent looks, the general wreck of the area. "Blackouts, partial amnesia, expression of vastly different speech patterns and behavior, referring to self as _he_ or _we_...."

"All of the above, huh?" Ellison said dryly, eyeing their Grandpa.

/Kill them, send the bodies to the Graveyard, wipe anyone's mind in the area of the fact we were ever here,/ whispered through the shadows.

/They're cops, Bakura,/ Yami told the Ring's spirit firmly. /There would be an investigation. And they've done nothing to us./

/Nothing save threaten our very existence! He's a _Guide_ , pharaoh, he has the power to cast spirits out-/

/If they think we're only mental problems, they won't be casting us out of anyone, now will they?/

Silence. /...You are a schemer, pharaoh./ A sense of question. /Ryou agrees./

/Good./ Yami brushed against his other self. /Yugi?/

/I don't like it!/ Stubbornness reached back. /You're a _person_ , Yami, not a-/

/We do what we must so all of us are safe, tenshi. I won't be offended./

Yugi swallowed. "We... don't like to talk about it," he said softly.

"Yugi-"

"It's okay, Grandpa." He looked up at the taller detective, willing the man to believe. "Yami doesn't hurt anyone unless they come after me first. And Bakura's...."

"Getting better," Ryou put in. "It helps, having someone around who knows what you're going through."

"Getting better." Ellison's eyes narrowed.

"Detective, they're only children," Solomon said firmly.

"Armed kids, Mouto. Who just took down a thirty-foot snake - and I _want_ to know what happened to that snake." The detective nodded toward the park exit. "Let's take this downtown."

* * *

  
"...And as you can see from our third-quarter estimates, our prospects for the combined program sales are excellent...." The bright young Questscape accountant gestured broadly with her left hand, neat blonde bun barely shifting as she flicked to the next slide.

Seated at the end chair of the meeting table, Seto Kaiba fought back a yawn as the company's board of directors murmured in approval. He knew this tactic, though he'd rarely resorted to it himself. Provide all the relevant information in a form so boring the mind skipped over the important details in self-defense. Not subtle, but often effective.

_Meaning they have something to hide_ , Kaiba thought coolly, finding his gaze drawn once more to the strict, upper-class stiffness of Preston Montgomery. Ever since the man had shown up at practically the last minute, navy silk tie hastily straightened, something about Questscape's VP in charge of Accounts had struck Kaiba as distinctly _off_.

_No concealed weapons, no odd glowing gold objects, no glazed, mind-controlled stare_ , Kaiba ticked off mentally. _I think we can presume we're dealing with a normal threat._

And Montgomery was a threat. He could feel it.

_And that has_ nothing _to do with magic, Egypt, or supposed past lives_ , Kaiba thought, not admitting his relief, even to himself. He was a trained CEO; and here was a man with power, in a company that had already had more than its share of internal shenanigans thanks to ex-company president Norman Ventriss' efforts on behalf of his homicidal son, trying to disguise his department's data. He had _every_ reason to be suspicious.

_Mokuba doesn't like him, either_.

Not that Mokuba thought executives were fun on the best days. But there was a definite difference between people the twelve-year-old thought needed to loosen up - which included his own brother, from time to time - and those rare individuals Mokuba avoided like the plague.

_Such as Malik... no. There's no magic here. No reason to worry about Mokuba wandering the halls, winning secretaries' hearts as he listens for the gossip_ you _won't hear._

Ellison had been dead on, after all. It was amazing what people would say when they thought a cute little kid didn't understand them.

Still. It was risky. The fact that he felt he needed to take that risk, no matter how good this potential deal with Questscape looked on the surface....

_They say they've cleaned up their affairs_ , Kaiba Corporation's CEO thought coldly. _Yet look through a few shell corporations, and it's clear Ventriss is still on the board. The man tried to cover up a_ murder, _and they still answer to him?_

He did not like it. At all.

Still. Pegasus might have dropped out of sight, but Industrial Illusions was still going strong. And if Kaiba Corp. was going to break into their sections of the North American market, he needed a contract with an American firm. Questscape had looked vulnerable enough to be promising.

_Now we need to know if it's too vulnerable_.... The conference room door clicked open, and Kaiba held back a sigh of relief. Mokuba. Right on schedule.

Mokuba wearing a frown, and not because of the cool looks he was getting from the interrupted board. Two pairs of blue eyes shared a speaking glance; unruly dark hair tilted toward the hall.

Kaiba closed his laptop with a _snap_ , locking it in his briefcase. Stood, ignoring the choked stammer from the blonde accountant. Outside, behind Mokuba... was that a woman crying? _We're not here to solve these people's personal problems._

But Mokuba knew that. If he'd brought the woman here, this was something Kaiba Corp.'s CEO needed to know about-

Something tingled at the edge of his senses, like static and darkness and blazing hate.

_Hissss...._

"What the _hell-!_ "

And the room filled with shouts and screams, as lightning crackled over the conference table, coalescing into a giant green cobra waving a tail decked with a crackling blue ball of static.

_Electric Snake_ , Kaiba noted automatically. _Attack 800, Defense 900, Thunder/Effect...._

And he was out of the room, sweeping Mokuba up with one hand and shoving the tear-streaked brunette into a window alcove with his briefcase as screaming executives and assistants tore into the hallway past them. Electricity cracked and snapped; metal shrieked, something whooshed into flame, and ceiling lights flickered.

*We can't help here! You have to get outside!*

_I know!_ Call dragons in here, no, not if he didn't want to bring the ceiling down on all their heads.

Not to mention the fact that he was a world-class Duelist, and this was a lousy _three-star_ Monster, and even one Blue Eyes White Dragon felt like hideous overkill.

Not that there was anything _wrong_ with overkill.

"Mrs. Johnston!" Mokuba tugged on the older woman's lilac suit-dress as smoke started billowing out of the conference room. "Where are the fire extinguishers?"

"I..." Reddened eyes went wide, staring at static-shedding scales as the Snake slithered into the hall. The long tail waved languidly, lightning-ball glittering electric blue with destructive glee. "I-yi-yi...."

The Snake lashed the near wall; Kaiba shoved them both forward before lightning could arc down the circuitry he knew would be woven through the window frame. Sparks crackled behind them; heat dotted his coat. _So much for the security system._

"Extinguishers!" Mrs. Johnston shuddered at the wail of the fire alarms, pointed down the hall. "I - but-"

Mokuba's gaze was fixed on the Snake as shrieks spread through the building, offices emptying in a clatter of panicked dress shoes. "So much for fire safety, huh, nii-sama?"

"Just run!" _And hope it doesn't follow us, it has no_ reason _to follow us-_

Red eyes swiveled toward them. Fangs glinted in the spreading flames. A scaly body coiled.

... _Except that we're Duelists, and we're here_.

The Snake arced down the hall after them, eyes aglow, hissing like feral lightning.

_We're not going to outrun it_. "Go!"

"But-" Mokuba took one look at his brother's ready stance, the deck in his hand, and bolted after Johnston.

The Snake slowed, evidently considering the one human in these corridors not running for its life. A red tongue flickered. The lightning-decked tail waved languidly.

_Maybe I've confused its master_ , Kaiba thought, drawing a five-card hand. _But who could be controlling it? I didn't sense anyone who could be a Duelist here...._

And hate boiled the air around them both, driving fangs forward. _Hiss!_

"Likewise." Kaiba snared a card between two fingers, as if he'd slash it across an unsuspecting throat. And smirked. "Dark Zebra!"

Rainbow mist spiraled out from the rug, rising into a horned shape of black-and-white stripes. Razor hooves pawed the carpet, shredding blue pile. The Zebra lowered its head, snorted. Charged-

_Attack 1800_ , Kaiba thought, eyes slit against coruscating sparks as fangs and lightning met hooves and horn. _Unless you've equipped your Monster, whoever you are...._

Lightning shattered. With an airy squeak, the Snake boiled into violet mist.

_I didn't think so._ Kaiba swayed, suddenly weary. The crackle of flames was louder than fading shrieks, blending with the alarm's incessant shrill. _I think... I might cancel the rest of the meetings today...._

Hooves clopped toward him. A velvet nose nuzzled his hand.

"I suppose I'm fortunate you don't hold a grudge," Seto murmured, lacing his fingers into the stiff, striped mane. Recalling one of the last times he'd summoned this Monster, to sacrifice it to Obelisk the Tormentor. _No God Cards. Never again. That hunger for more power, that lack of control... worse than the damn Rod._

A horsy snort agreed.

"Seto!" Mokuba was tugging on his arm, fear for his brother overriding the wonder when he looked at the Zebra. The smaller boy coughed. "Seto, come on!"

"Mokuba!" Mrs. Johnston dashed back after the twelve-year-old, extinguisher in hand, jaw dropping at the impossible creature he was pressed against. "Mr. Kaiba! We have to get your brother out of this smoke!"

Right. Smoke. Very bad for computers. Not that good for programmers, either. With a twist of will, Kaiba dismissed the Zebra. _Let's see. The exit was_ -

The direction Mokuba was already dragging him. Of course.

And they were forcing their way through fleeing stragglers, out onto the grass of the neatly-kept lawn.

_Good response time on the fire trucks_ , Kaiba noted absently, hearing sirens wail louder as Mokuba dropped down on the grass near the parking lot. He sat more gracefully, fighting the weariness as he drew in deep breaths of clear air. It wasn't nearly as bad as a Mirror Wall.

_Of course not. I attacked, and won_. Seto sighed, noting the black spots on his coat where sparks had impacted. And smiled.

The board meeting was shot. Montgomery was hiding something. And somewhere out there was a rogue Duelist nursing a grudge... and one hell of a headache, given the one thousand point difference in Attack strength.

But he'd won.

_I could really use a cup of coffee_.

* * *

  
"You're sure Jim and Blair aren't in here somewhere?"

Looking over the smoke-decked bedlam as the Cascade Fire Department hit Questscape, Detective Brian Rafe sighed. People scattered all over the computer company's front lawn. Fire. Possible explosions. And enough raw chaos to set a Cistercian monastery on its ear. "Simon swears they were last seen heading for Bayside Park."

Hat pulled low over his shaved head, Detective Henri Brown shot him an eloquent look. "Uh-huh."

Right. Rafe had lost count of the number of times those two had been supposed to be elsewhere, only to end up smack in the center of the most recent weirdness to strike Cascade. And given their ongoing homicide investigation into Questscape.... "Do you want left or right?"

"Right," Henri nodded, glancing over the hysterical and shaking types near the ambulance. Smoke and water stained more than one executive suit and programmer's tee-shirt; evidently people had had close encounters with the sprinkler system. Yet from what they could see so far, no one looked seriously hurt. Maybe they'd get lucky, and their potential witness would still be in one piece. "You find Mrs. Johnston, sing out."

Rafe braced himself, and stepped into the crowd of survivors.

"Sparks _everywhere_...."

"Get our online supplier now! Every minute we're down because of that - that _thing_ is lost money. I don't care what condition the offices are in, we need replacement equipment...."

"Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes...?"

"Jenna Johnston? I don't know, Detective, last I saw she was with that Japanese kid. Dude, today has been _seriously_ whacked." Jake Raine's eyes were caffeine-glazed behind thick lenses, soaked heavy metal tee shirt clinging to the debugger's gym-muscled frame. "First Clark comes down on our Jenna of Java like the wrath of Bill Gates, then the whole place goes berserk...."

"Ethan Clark?" Rafe asked, just to be sure; their last interview had turned up about five Clarks in the company, only two of which were related. He caught Henri heading their way out of the corner of his eye. A shake of his partner's head was enough: no Jenna in sight. "Your and Mrs. Johnston's supervisor?"

"Yeah." Raine scratched the back of his head. "See, I wasn't listening - rude, y'know, plus I had some Minmei on and that kind of drowns things - but I heard her phone ring. She was on it for maybe five minutes, sounded upset. Then she slams out of her cubicle and heads straight for Clark, which I wouldn't do, seeing as the guy hadn't chewed anyone's ass yet today and he was looking mean around the eyes. Kind of Tarentino bad guy, sort of? So she asks for some emergency leave, family stuff."

"And Clark?" Rafe prompted.

"Dude, he went ballistic! I mean, I _know_ we're going to be short-handed on the program wrap-up because of Austell's funeral, but she knew it too! Jenna wouldn't ask if she didn't need that leave _right now_ \- and he told her it could wait!"

"Bastard," Henri muttered. Austell Johnston had been slain less than a week ago. And from the initial interviews, they knew the accountant's daughter had been almost as crushed as her mother. Corinna Johnston might well have gotten herself in trouble that _needed_ her mother there to straighten it out.

"You said it." Raine glared toward the knot of upper management over by the paramedics. "Jenna just went white. Even the kid saw it. He went up to her cubicle after Clark turned his back, and got her to go with him."

"Kind of strange, don't you think, Mr. Raine?" Henri searched the crowd as firefighters started filtering out of the building, smoky and triumphant. "A kid wandering around Questscape on his own?"

"Nah." Raine waved it off. "He's the little bro' of the guy the board's talking to. Some kind of major-pull Japanese exec. The kids get leeway."

_Little brother of a Japanese executive visiting Questscape_. Rafe felt his heart sink. _Oh no_.

Department gossip moved fast as cell-phone signals. By now half the cops on the street had heard about the two Japanese kids who'd walked out of an Ellison-Sandburg-perp dustup without a scratch. _And_ the odd pair that had shown up as reinforcements. Though Rafe was fairly sure only Major Crimes knew one of those kids had left a message on Blair's answering machine.

"And that's when things got really weird," Raine rushed on. "I mean, we had the alarms going off, the power going crazy. Got run over in the hall, and when I got up-" The debugger shook his head in disbelief. "Some young guy, in a purple trench coat - he was just _standing_ there, Detective. Just watching that snake come at him."

"Snake?" Rafe asked, trying to appear casual. Inwardly groaning; anyone who'd faced down Ellison was no one he wanted to tangle with. _There can't be two purple trench coats in Cascade._

"Big green cobra, covered with lightning - dude, it was warped!" The debugger shuddered. "I was thinking hologram, you know? Kaiba Corp.'s supposed to have the best, that's why the bigwigs want the contract. But holograms don't throw sparks, and then-" An incredulous shake of head. "You're not going to believe this."

"You'd be surprised, Mr. Raine," Henri said professionally. "Just tell us what you saw."

"He kind of - did something, I didn't see what," Raine said hesitantly. "And all of a sudden there was this kind of, I don't know, zebra-unicorn thing, tearing up the rug right there in the hall." Raine sucked in a breath. "And it charged right at the snake, and that's when I got the hell out of there. And... you don't believe any of this...."

Rafe hid a sigh. "Thank you, head over there, I'm sure the paramedics will look you over shortly."

"Story matches," Henri noted, flipping through his own notebook. "Some kind of high muckety-muck board meeting's going on upstairs when there's suddenly some weird electrical short-out, fires...."

"Someone's cobra loose in the halls," Rafe put in dryly.

"And a zebra with a horn and glowing red eyes," Brown finished. Looked at his notes again. Shook his head in disbelief.

Rafe groaned. "Are you certain no one mentioned Ellison?"

"No curly-headed anthropologist, no detective with a jaw you could break rocks on, no panther, no short, painted guys in loincloths," the dark detective shrugged. "Looks like our resident trouble magnets might be in the clear this time."

Rafe had to blink at that. This much chaos and those two were nowhere to be found? _Okay, now we are getting into weird. Even for Cascade._

Henri closed his notes. "And no sign of Mrs. Johnston... hey!"

Rafe broke into a run, hearing Henri's breath behind him as they raced for the yellow cab pulled up to the curb farther down the lawn. Violet and dark blue glimmered near the open door, and smoke-darkened lilac caught the sun as a tall teen in a brass-studded trench coat closed the cab door behind Jenna Johnston.

"Hey!" Henri yelled as the car pulled away. "Cascade PD! Stop that cab!"

Blue eyes raked them. Kaiba picked up a steely briefcase, leaving one hand floating free near the wary black-haired twelve-year-old in a sky-blue raincoat. Waited until they were within easy hearing distance. "Why?"

"Cascade Major Crimes." Rafe held up his identification. "Detective Rafe. This is Detective Brown. We need to talk to Mrs. Johnston."

"Then I presume you can locate her at the hospital, Detective." Not an inch of give in that voice. "She's gone to visit her daughter."

"Corinna's in the hospital?" Rafe caught his breath. _Not good._

"Mrs. Johnston didn't carry a phone," Henri said, eyeing the two brothers. "And I know Mr. Clark didn't call her a cab."

"Nii-sama did," Mokuba piped up. "Companies that don't look after their people fail. Right, big brother?" He looked up, gray-blue eyes wide; tugged on heavy violet cloth. "Nii-sama?"

_Distant eyes_ , Rafe realized, seeing Kaiba shake himself back to here-and-now. _Like Jim, when he's hearing something we can't._

_But Jim would have known if we had another sentinel in town, right? Please tell me I'm right...._

From the wary look in Henri's eyes, he'd caught that distraction too. "Mr. Kaiba, I think we need to discuss a few things downtown."

The cold gaze narrowed. "I don't think so."

"Mr. Kaiba-"

"Which way is downtown?" Mokuba stuck in, glancing toward the direction Kaiba had been listening.

Rafe looked down with dawning respect. _Simon said the kid had a mind like a steel trap_. "That way."

* * *

  
"So you're certain you've noticed nothing out of the ordinary?"

_Next time you get a bad feeling, Valentine, run faster_ , Mai Valentine told herself dryly, shifting her weight onto her left foot as the harbor waves vibrated the dock they stood on. _Contract or no contract, nothing's worth getting mixed up in a homicide investigation._ Light rippled up onto the _Luck of the Draw_ 's hull, lending the casino ship a sparkle all the gambling glitter in the world couldn't match. The white ship was money and glamour and the freedom to live life to her standards, no one else's; living by her skill at the game, and to hell with what polite society thought.

Yet for all that, she'd felt a gnawing worry in the back of her mind since this morning. The same instinct that told her when to play a card that most would have thought was hopeless, or hold back one that seemed unbeatable, was awake and agitated as a vibrating needle in her gut.

_Something's coming,_ a Duelist's instinct whispered. _Something bad._

_Get out of here!_

_Think fast._ Mai smiled at Inspector Megan Connor, taking a strategic deep breath that riveted Detective Taggert's gaze to her laced white bodice. "Like I said, Inspector, this was my first trip on the _Luck_. Piecework. It's not like I'm going to know what's normal and what's not."

"Piecework?" Taggert managed.

Mai turned half into the sun, as if innocently shifting her weight back. She knew the picture she presented to the stunned cop; short purple jacket and skirt clinging to tall, generous curves, high-heeled boots, elbow-length white finger-less gloves, long wavy blonde hair framing sultry violet eyes. "Professional players are part of the _Luck_ 's entertainment. Let the amateurs and the kids get some experience in, without risking more than the cruise stakes. I had some time on my hands, and let's face it, anyone can use some spare cash, so I'm just filling in while Ms. Sidonie takes her sick leave. If the management's happy with my job... well, then we'll see."

"Shake your head, Joel, your eyes are stuck," Connor muttered. "What sort of games do you play, Ms. Valentine?" _Besides the obvious with guys' heads_ , the redhead's wry glance added silently.

Mai's smile turned real, humor wiping away her gnawing panic. _Another tough cookie, huh? Girlfriend, I think I could like you._ "Anything with cards. Though this one's my favorite." She drew out her deck, flipping a card face up.

"Unfriendly Amazon," Megan read. "Attack 2000, Defense 1000... what on earth is this?"

"Guess it still hasn't caught on in Australia," Mai shrugged, flipping past a few more cards. "Well, in America and Japan, this is Duel Monsters." _Harpy's Feather Duster. Elegant Egotist. Harpy's Pet Dragon._ "You and your opponent each have a deck, and you use your monsters to try to take out the other Duelist's life points." _Harpy Lady. Cyber Bondage. Mirror Wall._ "You use Magic and Trap cards to support your monsters, and against each other's magic and traps, and the whole thing can tangle up in some pretty complex strategy." _Even when there's no magic involved. Add in a Millennium Item, and can we say Shadow Game?_

"Can't be better than poker," Joel put in, finally distracted from her feminine attributes.

"Detective, I defy any poker player to last five rounds in a Duel," Mai grinned. _Duelists playing poker? Seto Kaiba would eat you alive, Detective. And Yugi - heh, let's not even go there. Yami in Vegas; they'd have to call out the National Guard._ "It's not just what's in your hand and your deck. It's what's in your opponent's hand and deck, and you can never call it the same way twice."

"Back up a mo'," Megan said suddenly. "What was that last one?"

"Mirror Wall?" Mai flipped the Trap Card over once more, showing the image of a glittering, crystalline wall. "Permanent Trap. Turns your opponent's attack against itself. Costs you some Life Points, but it's worth it. Why?"

"Ah... no reason," Joel waved it off, trading an incredulous look with his partner. "Okay. Maybe you're new to this ship, but you do game for a living. Are you sure you didn't see anything strange?"

"We've reason to believe some of the funds Mr. Johnston appears to have been investigating may have been mislaid here," Megan filled in. "Anything you might remember would help."

Mai's smile turned formal. "I know the drill, thanks." _It's not that I don't_ want _to help. But... it's not my business. One guy's already dead from poking into this. I'm not a cop. I'm just a traveling gambler. I don't have a gun, or magic, or even the rights of your average American citizen here._

But she could see Joey's face as if the blond Duelist were standing in front of her, one hand out to draw her into his circle of friends. Friends that had never blamed her for being their rival... and never given up on her when it looked like all was lost.

Joey had Dueled Marik Ishtar for her mind and soul, knowing full well that he was up against a yami; and not just any dark spirit, but the wielder of the Millennium Rod. A creature who had every intention of killing him - or worse - if he lost.

_The big lunkhead_. Mai sighed. "Look. I don't know anything specific."

"But?" Megan prompted.

"The blackjack table felt - off." Mai shuffled her deck absently. _Shadow in the water... guess not all the big fish have been scared out of the bay._ "Nothing I could put my finger on; Sterling's usually at the opposite end of the gaming room from me, and I didn't see a lot of the bets. But what I did see-" She shook her head, lips pursed in a silent whistle. "I know odds, Inspector. His felt off."

"Crooked game?" Joel scowled.

"In whose favor, is the question," Megan murmured.

_Sharp lady_ , Mai thought. "Most of the night it looked okay. But when a few people dropped by, the odds seemed to tilt their way." _Perfect way to launder your money. Damn, I knew this trip wouldn't stay easy._

The detectives were all taut attention. "Can you give us descriptions?" Joel asked, notebook ready.

"Some, I think." Mai eyed the shadow undulating through salt water. _Really big... oh hell, that's_ not _a fish!_

A rumble like thunder; dark water surged up, higher than a man, higher than the topmost mast on the _Luck_. Hung there for what felt like eternity, a black curve of hate-

And the tidal wave crashed over the casino ship, violet-finned amphibian riding it from stem to stern.

_Root Water_. Mai blinked, taking in the salamander maw, the gold flash on the snakelike indigo tail, the finned forearms tearing at a railing as it rode falling water back into the bay. _Somebody started a tournament and didn't tell me?_

Screams. Claw marks in the torn metal railing. Water pouring from every compartment as the boat listed - water Kaiba's best holograms couldn't have called into a tidal wave, even if holographic shock waves could knock a person off a building.

No. This wasn't a tournament.

_Not unless you've got a lot of shiny gold Items mixed in_. "Yugi!"

"Call for backup!" Megan was yelling, gun drawn as the Root Water undulated around the ship.

"Yeah, right!" Taggert had taken cover behind a stray shipping crate. "Who you got in mind? Godzilla?"

"Start with SWAT!" Megan backed up to cover Mai as water surged up around the Monster once more. "We'll work up from there!"

The wave rose up, dark and mist-touched, poised to crash into the already-listing ship. On-deck crew howled like madmen, trying to escape their doomed vessel. The Root Water bared fangs in a malevolent grin, forearm waving the tsunami on-

"Oh no you don't!" Megan opened fire.

The amphibian Monster squealed, garnet eyes flashing as blood spattered indigo hide and its wave fell apart. Blue coils twisted on themselves, fangs flashing as it lunged-

_"Mahou kado o hatsudou!"_

_What am I doing, I'm not Joey, I don't even know what I drew-_ Mai's eyes fell on her card's familiar image. _Yes!_ "Rose Whip!"

The lash she knew as well as her Harpies' feathers struck out, snaring the Monster inches from Megan's throat.

The inspector ducked and rolled, jaw dropping at the carmine shimmer around the whip in Mai's hand. Leather was wrapped around a slick indigo throat, digging into sensitive gills, clinging with all the strength and tenacity of its wielder.

Mai shuddered, feeling the world go gray and dim and silent. "I can't hold it!"

Firecracker snaps filled her ears as her knees gave way; a volley of sound, like the New Year festival. One knee scraped on dock concrete, she put out a hand to try to catch herself-

And found herself caught instead, by a thick reek of cordite and the dark detective's arms. "Easy. Easy, Valentine, we got you. It's dead."

_Dead?_ Mai pried open an eye as her Whip shimmered away, saw the bullet-tattered Root Water dissolving into violet mist. "Not dead. Banished. If the guy's got a Monster Reborn we're all screwed...."

"Say what?" Joel helped her to shaky feet. "Lady, I don't know what you just did, but you need a hospital."

"No way." A hospital wouldn't have helped Joey. Rest had... and magic. "I need - I need a phone. I need to call Yugi...." Wasn't there a phone in her bag? Why was it so hard to remember?

"We'll call her," Megan assured her, moving in to get an arm under her shoulder as the Duelist staggered. "But we need to get you checked out first. You look as if you've been drawn through a wrangle backwards."

"Not her. Him. Yugi Mouto. King of Games." Why did they have to argue when it was so hard to stay awake? "Hospital won't help. Yugi will." _Man, Joey, when you said it was like every bit of energy poured down the drain, you weren't kidding._

_I called up a card._ I _did. Me, Mai Valentine. Wandering gambler, adventuress and general woman your mother doesn't want you to grow up to be._

And occasional heroine saving the world.

_I really_ have _been around those kids too long...._

"I'll find the harbormaster so we can start handling this mess," Mai heard Joel say, as if through thick mist. "You get her out of here."

Woolen warmth wrapped around Mai's shoulders, blasted at her from a car heater as Megan fastened her seat belt. "Stay with me, now," the inspector said forcefully. "Pass out, and I'll have no choice but to haul your lovely carcass into Emergency."

"Hmm?"

Megan backed the small car out, swung it in a sickening lurch toward the road. "You're in luck. I'm taking you to Yugi."

"We're going to Japan?" That didn't make sense. And not just because the world kept trying to slide out of focus.

Megan grinned wryly. "Not quite that far."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahou kado o hatsudou! - Activate magic card!


	4. Chapter 4

_Clink._

"Ow!"

_Clatter_.

"I say!"

_Clunk._

Ryou Bakura shot Jim a chocolate glare as the detective pulled yet another knife off his slender frame. Late afternoon sunlight trickled through the bullpen windows, deepening the taller hikari's indignant look. " _Do_ you mind?"

/I'm surprised the tomb robber hasn't maimed him yet,/ Yami chuckled in the back of Yugi's mind. /So this is a police station? Hmm. I wonder how Tristan would compare it to the medjay barracks./

/You don't remember?/ Yugi asked, trying to keep his thoughts as quiet as possible. Blair was perched on the desk right by them, after all; who knew what a Guide could hear of magic.

/...No./ His darker half's tone turned amused. /I wouldn't worry so, aibou. Ryou's enough distraction for the both of us./

True. Blair was openly staring as his partner shook the silver-haired teen down. "The last time I saw anybody carrying this much illegal hardware, I was stuck in the crossfire of a bunch of drug-lords in a Peruvian rainforest," the anthropologist said wryly. "If you hit water, you'd sink."

Ryou crossed indignant arms, yelped again as Jim promptly twisted them apart to get at something else. "I would not!"

"A knife," Solomon was saying in a low, serious tone, casting a dark look at the three well-crafted blades currently in Blair's possession. All strong steel, all definitely meant for self-defense rather than casual use; Tristan and Joey had been very helpful. "I gave you permission for _a_ knife. As in one, singular."

/Almost enough distraction,/ Yami amended.

"Ano... we might lose one?" Yugi scratched at the back of spiky hair, giving his grandfather an embarrassed smile. /Did we _have_ to have three, Yami?/

/We've been over this, aibou. One, and we have to close to hand to hand. Two, and we have the option of throwing. Three, and we've a tool as well./

/...I don't like it./ But he'd started practicing with Tristan anyway, Joey jumping in with enthusiasm, Tea with mingled interest and trepidation. The sheer relief from Yami as they blew dust off millennia-old skills was worth his shaky knees at the thought of actually _using_ them.

/I'd worry if you did, little one./ Yami wrapped comfort around him. /I pray we never need use them. But I want you to live, aibou./

"Given what my detectives pulled up from the Asian crimes files, I can't say I'm surprised about Bakura." Simon was scowling, staring into his mug as if the curdled brew might suddenly turn into something resembling coffee. "They're minors, and the state hasn't got a limit on knife length. But Sandburg tells me you know they've got problems, Mr. Mouto. I am seriously tempted to charge you with felony endangerment."

/Why does he have to _loom_ like that?/ Yugi groused.

/Why can't Kaiba walk like an ordinary person, instead of stalking like an angry leopard?/ Yami's amusement rippled down their link. /It's habit./

_Seto._ Yugi's hand touched the Puzzle, felt the vibration of a dragon's growl. /Kaiba?/

Yami's laughter was answer enough.

Solomon stood straight, long used to the rest of the world towering over him. "Captain, I can explain."

"I doubt that." Violet swirled as Seto Kaiba stalked into the bullpen, Mokuba, Rafe, and Brown in his wake. "Mouto. Yugi." He glanced at Jim as the detective finally let Ryou go. "You missed one."

"Where?" Dusting off his hands, Ellison shot him a scowl.

"How should I know?" Seto's smile was thin and dangerous, a cruel curve of lips. "I've dealt with Bakura. And based on past experience, you've missed at least one." Cold blue eyes swept the bullpen, settled on the malfunctioning percolator. Narrowed.

"Um... you're standing between Kaiba-kun and the coffee," Yugi murmured to an unnerved Rafe.

No fool, the dark-haired detective scrambled out of the way as the young CEO bore down on the nearest source of caffeine.

"Even goes after coffee the same way." Brown made his way to Blair's shoulder, voice low. "Blair, he headed straight for here. _Straight_ for here. Like Jim finding you. You're sure he's not-?"

"Pretty sure," Blair nodded. "Ah, Kaiba. That machine's not-"

Kaiba glared at the percolator. The machine hiccupped, and coffee began trickling into the pot.

"Okay, that's just too weird," Henri muttered.

/Not used to sorcerers, are they?/ Yami's snicker was tempered with relief. His greatest rival and ally was here, ready to strike if Bakura turned treacherous.

/We're stronger together than apart./ Yugi smiled into the cold blue gaze, reading the tell-tale protective twitches that meant something had threatened Mokuba. And the coolly amused twist of lips that meant Seto had taken great pleasure in grinding whatever it was into dust. /If we can just talk him into staying..../

And he caught Blair studying him oddly. /Hide!/

A door slammed in his mind, Yami seeking refuge in a soul room filled with traps. Yugi hid a wince, already feeling cold inside. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

_It's just until we get out of here_ , Yugi told himself. _Just until we're safe._

"Ha!" Jim grabbed for silver hair, drew out a steely thread with slender black plastic handles. "Got it." Inspected his catch as Ryou sulked, and whistled. "So is Bakura why you carry a bulletproof briefcase, Kaiba, or are your competitors really that scary?"

Clinging near the violet trench coat, Mokuba turned a miniature version of his brother's glare on the detective. "My big brother's not afraid of anything!"

"Uh-huh." Jim stalked toward the CEO, presented a hand, palm up. "Knife. Turn it over."

Kaiba snorted. "I have a permit, Detective."

"Really." Ellison's smile was feral.

"Ah, guys?" Yugi ventured. A shimmer of white was misting around Kaiba, just as a flex of furred black was fading in around the detective. Not visible to normal eyes, not yet; but with the anger vibrating in the air, it wouldn't be long. _Oh boy._

/This could get ugly,/ Yami whispered, the dark stone door of his soul room open a bare crack.

_No kidding_. Yugi slipped his hand under his open coat, silently undoing the cover snap on the belt pouch holding his deck.

"Yugi," Grandpa said sternly.

Yugi met his grandpa's gaze, looked pointedly at Kaiba's ready stance. Shadows were already singing around the CEO, dragons ready and eager for a sorcerer's call.

And Blair was eyeing them both, inexplicable anger in teal eyes, as if they were a puzzle he had to figure out or die. "Jim."

"What?" But the detective relaxed minutely, no longer an inch away from trying to grab Kaiba's weapons by main force.

"A bit of help, here!" an Australian accent called from the hall.

"'M'okay," Mai Valentine mumbled, as a redheaded detective half-dragged the purple-clad Duelist into the bullpen. "Really. Jus' need to sit down...."

"Mai!" Yugi ran to help prop the blonde up, guiding her into the nearest chair. She looked so _faded_. "How'd you find us?"

"Monsters, people screaming, general insanity...." Mai yawned, blinking widely. "Wasn't hard, Yugi." Dazed violet eyes fixed on a flowing trench coat. "Kaiba? Ryou? Someone throw a tournament and didn't tell me?"

"No." A quick sweep of blue eyes over her, and Kaiba headed for the coffee machine once more.

"Monsters?" Mokuba asked, moving back near Grandpa. "You mean-" He glanced at the detectives, and shut up.

"Connor?" Simon growled.

"I think we may have some answers, Captain." The redhead let go of Mai, backed off with a dark look of her own.

"Leave her alone. She's hurt!" Yugi took Mai's right hand, seeing as much as feeling the disruption in the Duelist's aura that was the wound of a first, unaided summoning. /Yami, help me!/

/This isn't just speaking, aibou,/ Yami warned. /Grandpa can sense us shaping a soul's energies. Blair's a Guide. He _will_ see us./

/We can't leave Mai like this!/

/Nor will we. But be prepared. We may have to fight our way out of here./

Yugi nodded slightly, already soothing the flow of Mai's magic as Yami gently merged with him. He didn't _want_ to fight. But for Mai... Mai was a friend.

"Yes. She is hurt," Connor said pointedly. "Though I'm not certain how, given that the Creature from the Indigo Lagoon we shot never seemed to touch her."

"As in, big, scaly, fanged creature," Jim stated.

"Pops up, wreaks massive amounts of havoc, then vanishes into mist," Rafe added.

"All of the above. And for some odd, inexplicable reason, instead of seeking a hospital or a psychiatrist like an ordinary soul faced with the paranormal, she wanted to find you, Yugi." Connor planted fists on her hips. "Now, why would that be?"

"That's none of your concern." Kaiba pressed a half-cup of coffee into Mai's left hand, helped her guide it to her lips. Arched a dark brow, taking in just who now stood beside him. "Slowly, Valentine."

"Monsters in my city?" Simon growled. "It damn well is my concern, Kaiba. Connor!"

The redhead dipped a hand into the pouch strapped to Mai's leg, sparking a squawked "Hey!" from the Duelist.

_She dares_. Yami's eyes darkened, scarlet touching violet. _She dares take a Duelist's deck._

/We'll get it back,/ Yugi reassured him, never letting up on the slow, even strokes that shifted Valentine's aura from jangled exhaustion into healthy weariness. /Mai first./

Stalking over to the captain, Connor turned up a familiar card. "Mirror Wall, Simon."

"Decrease the attack of all your opponent's attacking monsters by half," Simon read off. "What the _hell?_ "

"Rose Whip," Connor turned up next. "What Ms. Valentine used on the creature itself. And in the car, she called our B-movie stray a Root Water. A creature that causes tidal waves. Which is precisely what it _did_."

"Duel Monsters?" Blair squeaked.

Jim drew in a breath, nostrils flared. "That's it. That's what they're all carrying." Turned to his partner. "What is it?"

"It's a trading card game, Jim," the anthropologist reported, confused. "Some of my students are into it. I looked at a few cards, but the way the game mish-mashes archetypes and monsters and magic together from all kinds of mythologies kind of grates on my nerves...." Almost against his will, his gaze swiveled to Kaiba.

"Magic," Megan breathed. "You did stop the blast."

A subtle twitch of fingers sent Mokuba behind him. Seto's expression was cool and unmoved as a glacier. "Inspector. Have you checked in with reality lately? Explosions behave unpredictably. They don't just _stop_."

"Nice act." Jim stalked toward the cold-faced teen, jaw just as set and dangerous. "You must have learned from a pro. But I can see your pulse jump from here." The detective's eyes narrowed. "Hand over the cards."

/You're right, Yami. This _is_ going to get ugly./ Yugi winced, retreating to his soul room. /And I'm betting the answer is-/

"No."

Ellison's voice dropped, edged with menace. Black fur began to mist into being once more, a dark shimmer lengthening into a lashing tail. "I don't care who you are. I don't care who your teachers were. You're seventeen, and I know more dirty tricks than you could have picked up in a lifetime."

"Ah, Jim...." Simon managed, staring at the white curves of scales forming out of the shadows. Rafe and Brown were close behind Solomon as he headed to the farthest corner, dragging a reluctant Blair in their wake.

"Mother love us." Megan was frozen, Mai's cards still in hand. "What is that?"

"Never seen a dragon before?" The Duelist's empty cup clattered to the desk, as Mai prepared to hit the ground at the slightest hint of White Lightning. "Duck."

Oblivious, Ellison leaned into Kaiba's space, face inches from the slighter teen, light blue eyes boring into a gaze as deep and cold as the northernmost sea. "Hand. Over. The cards."

Chill fire crackled in Kaiba's eyes as black and white haunches bunched, ready to spring at each other. "Never."

And Yami felt the Shadows tilt.

"Swords of Revealing Light!"

Jaguar and dragon crashed into glowing blades, roaring impotent challenges as they scrabbled at the magic holding them fast.

"Now." Yami stalked into the middle of the suddenly silent bullpen, granting Mokuba and his grandfather a reassuring smile. "Perhaps we can talk like civilized people."

"You!" Jim turned on tri-colored hair, swore under his breath as he slammed into a blocking blade of light. "What the hell are you doing, Yami!"

Rafe gulped, found his voice in the face of the impossible. "Yami? I thought his name was-"

"Yugi and Ryou are multiples. Yugi may be a cute kid, but _this_ personality's dangerous-" Blair lunged forward. "Jim!"

Solomon held him back, eyes flicking between the half-solid Blue Eyes White Dragon hissing behind Kaiba, the misty black jaguar snarling beside Ellison. "He's not hurt, Blair. Swords of Revealing Light only stops attacks."

Kaiba casually leaned against a glowing sword, smirk reappearing as he shuffled through his deck. "But not for long."

"Long enough to see reason, I hope. Stubborn as the Nile in flood, the both of you." Yami crossed his arms. "Kaiba! These folk are not your enemies."

The dragon master snarled, gaze fierce and bright and wild as the Blue Eyes coiled behind him.

"He wants to take away Seto's dragons," Mokuba whispered.

/And Seto knows it,/ Yugi said through his link, uncharacteristically grim. /This isn't like the Xavier Institute, Yami. Somebody's still out there, right now. Somebody who tried to hurt Mokuba. Kaiba's so close to the Shadows.../

_I won't let him fall, aibou._ A spark of humor lit the ruby gaze. _I'd rather not see the ceiling brought down on top of us. How would we ever explain?_ "The detective wants his companions safe. I know you understand that." Yami turned on the trapped Guard. "Ellison! A Duelist won't give up his deck. There are monsters on the loose, creatures that might attack any who bear the touch of magic. Mokuba is at risk. If you think Kaiba will release the one weapon he has for his brother's defense, you're a greater fool than I dreamed."

"Captain, the Swords only stop your _opponents'_ attacks," Solomon intervened, voice wary as Simon's hand dipped toward his ankle.

Growling, the captain straightened. "Your grandson's got a serious attitude problem, Mouto."

_Attitude problem?_ The pharaoh frowned.

Yugi chuckled, tickling down their link. /Sorry, Yami. They don't see a pharaoh, or even a Duelist. All they see is a kid. A _short_ kid./

_Not quite all_ , Yami thought, looking over a wide-eyed Megan, a white-faced Blair. He felt the echoes of magic in them, the solidity of self that would see the lightning-streaks of gold decking red-and-black hair.

"Thank you, Captain, I'm aware of that," Solomon said dryly. "Please, no gunfire. Yami _will_ protect Yugi, and given that you've relieved him of his mundane weaponry, I'd rather not take my chances on how. And if Kaiba decides to send his dragon against your detective's soul-beast-"

" _Crispy_ kitty," Mai put in, blonde hair barely visible over the desk she'd crouched behind. "Even with your puppy over there to help. Silver Fang he's _not_."

"You see Blair's wolf?" Megan pursed lips in a silent whistle.

"Of course they do, Inspector. They're Duelists. That's what happens when you mix magic with the cards... and magic runs in my family as much as Kaiba's," Solomon finished, gaze distant.

Yami wove between edged light, touched half-solid scales. "Easy, great one. I swear, I'll not let them take you from him."

The Blue Eyes rumbled, fangs bared with the anger that crackled off Kaiba. *The young one...*

"Any that strike for him will deal with me."

Kaiba's snarl might well have come from his dragon. " _My_ brother, Yami. _I'll_ protect him."

"I know. But he is safe now." Yami reached out, slow and careful, allowing Kaiba to see his every move. "All of us are safe now."

Seto's fingers tightened, eyes blazing azure as he watched the Guard's snarling jaguar spirit. _"Nenem-ek, per-a'a. Mehi-ek kheftey-ek...."_

_You're making a mistake, pharaoh. You forget your enemies...._

Yami held calm on his face like ice over his storm-tossed soul. Wild magic and anger had done what Kaiba rarely would of his own will; loosed shards of his previous incarnation's memories, the high priest warning the pharaoh he had served so long and loyally millennia past.

/Yami?/ Yugi sent question along their bond, feeling a sliver of memory slide into place.

Gods. The Guard had reason to oppose him.

But why?

/I hate to say it, but... he _is_ a cop./

And they'd removed an enemy of the people that mortal laws no longer recognized existed. All a cop would see was a killer - though they should have no proof even of that.

/What do we do?/

/Protect our own, aibou. And bluff./ _"Sekha-i khenmes-i, Seth,"_ Yami said carefully. _"A'nen-i. A'nen er pen new. A'nen en Mokuba."_ _I remember my friends, Seth. Come back to me. Come back to this time. Come back to Mokuba._ "Seto." Yami wrapped his hand over the sorcerer's white-knuckled grip on his deck. Called his gentler half forward, even as he fit his own magic against the raw anger surging through Kaiba's aura. "When have we lied to you? When have we ever?"

"Seto?" Mokuba gripped his brother's coat. Let one hand trail along misty scales, wonder in gray-blue eyes. "I'm okay. Really."

"Jim?" Blair's voice was low and soothing behind him. "It might be easier for them to get rid of tall, white, and scaly if we could convince _el tigre_ there to back off a little..."

The Blue Eyes vanished, taking the Swords with it; Yugi felt Seto sag. "I refuse to explain this," the CEO gritted out in Japanese. "Any of it."

"I know." Yugi let the taller teen lean on him, noting how Seto's gaze searched ceilings and corners. "What are you looking for?"

"Cameras," came the low growl. "The Electric Snake seared the security system at Questscape. Their cameras didn't stand a chance-"

Yugi stifled a snicker. "They won't have any here." He turned a deliberate look Ellison's way. "They'd have too much to explain themselves."

"I know this was freaky." Blair was rubbing a thumb along Ellison's arm, all of his attention focused on his partner. "Heck, I'm freaked. But everybody's in one piece, let's just relax here...."

"Damn it, Blair, that kid is dangerous!"

The anthropologist sighed. "Jim, tell me one person in this station who _isn't_ dangerous. With the possible exception of Ryou-"

Silence.

Yugi glanced over the room. No sign of silver hair. _Uh-oh._

Blair was visually searching the room, gaze flicking to various cracks and corners behind the slack-jawed detectives. "Um... where is Ryou?"

"More to the point," Simon said dryly. "Where are his knives?"

Jim closed his eyes, seemed to listen-

Just as Yugi felt a tremor in the Shadows. /Something's come through!/ Yami warned.

"Dan!" Jim raced for the stairs, Blair on his heels.

"Look after Mai!" Yugi flung at Kaiba, dashing after them.

/Are you sure this is wise?/

/No,/ Yugi admitted, trying to catch his breath as they hit the first landing. /But seeing monsters is one thing, Yami. People do that in Domino all the time; you give them a little time, and they think it's just a bad dream. Do _you_ want to try and get these two out of Bakura's cards?/

* * *

  
/I don't want to be here!/

Bakura's fangs glinted in the basement's fluorescent lights. "Why, hikari," he purred, following his Ring's pointers toward traces of Shadow magic. "Don't you want to see who the pharaoh killed?"

/I'm sure... I'm sure Yugi had a reason./

Oh, of _course_ , Bakura thought bitterly. The pharaoh _always_ had a reason to kill.

/And you don't?/ A mental swallow; a shiver down his own nerves, as the first bitter tang of Formalin reached his nose. /But this is a morgue, Bakura! It's full of dead people! _Fresh_ dead people!/

Keh! Like that was supposed to bother him.

/Dead people without any valuables!/

Bakura stopped cold. Sweet Isis. Did they have any idea how dangerous that was, leaving bodies with no protective amulets? Natron itself kept most creatures of the Dark at bay, but present-day mortals didn't even use that. They wouldn't _dare_.

/Oh yes, they would! Haven't you ever watched "Tru Calling"?/

Well, yes; but that was a story about an untrained mage going back in time to stop deaths. He'd thought the lack of protective charms was a way to add more dramatic tension, pathos at the sight of the unguarded, unavenged dead-

A wry chuckle bubbled through his link. /I _thought_ I felt you listening in Literature./

Bakura snarled. /Tell anyone and I'll eviscerate them./ Golden pointers leading the way, he pushed through the windowed door.

"Examination by Dan Wolf. Subject has been identified as Rob Barlow, twenty-nine, employed as security at Questscape. Probable cause of death... gee, let me think." A dark-haired Native American in blue scrubs shook his head, looking down at the massive shard of van steel impaling his scorched corpse's chest. "On first observation, massive trauma to the upper chest, caused by shrapnel. Blood has been drawn and sent for analysis...."

/I doubt we can blame that one on Yami,/ Ryou said dryly.

Bakura rolled his eyes, ghosting past the medical examiner. /Of course not! The one we're looking for is right... here./ The Ring's spirit held his hand just above the drawer handle, amber eyes widening as he sensed the torn patterns of magic. /Necromancer!/

Ryou leaned back against the wall of his soul room. /Relative of yours, yami?/

/With magics like that about him?/ Bakura snorted. /Destroying the world is a madman's game, hikari. I have greater plans than that-/

Shadows trembled behind them. Wolf's knife dropped with a clatter to a steel table.

_Riiiip. Shred. Slurp_....

/I don't want to look,/ Ryou whispered. /I don't want to look, I don't want to look..../

Bakura looked.

Tattooed hide, gray as the grave. Teeth filed to points that ripped through dead flesh like a steak knife. A twisted, rune-scribed staff of a shovel, holding a shaking medical examiner at bay as the creature fed.

"Help..." Wolf whispered, dark eyes fixed on the red carnage spilling over his examining table. "Somebody... please...."

/Gravedigger Ghoul,/ Ryou identified the Shadow creature. /But... that's a magic card./

Bakura clung to the shadows, unwilling to draw the Ghoul's attention by reaching for his deck. Far more likely with this creature than most; the undead had no beating heart of their own to distract them from the gentle pulse of the Heart of the Cards.

So their unknown enemy was growing bolder in his strategy. If perhaps more bizarre. Why unleash a creature meant to take monsters out of a Graveyard here?

Wolf was scrabbling backward, hand closing on a tray of autopsy tools. The Ghoul loped off the table, crimson gaze fixed on warm meat, black tongue drooling stale blood. " _Anybody_... god...."

/It takes _two_ Monsters out of your opponent's Graveyard, yami!/

Wolf flung the tray. Metal points jabbed undead flesh, mere pinpricks as claws dragged the examiner down.

Fangs at his throat, Wolf screamed.

"Spiritualism!"

A trio of skeletal ghosts swept out of a dark door, jaws chattering with chill laughter. Bony fingers closed on gray flesh, misty forms swirling, wrapping fluttering ectoplasm about the struggling Ghoul. Cackling madly, they dragged the snarling undead clear of Wolf, vanishing into darkness once more.

Just as Ellison slammed through the morgue door. "Dan!"

A whimper from the floor.

"Holy...." Blair's jaw dropped as he took in the wreckage of lab and bodies, the ghosts misting back into Bakura's card. "Dan, you okay?" He held out a hand behind him. "Don't look."

"Why not... oh." Yugi whistled, stopping just on the edge of the doorway. "Ryou? Are you okay?"

/Better than okay!/ Warmth pulsed down Bakura's link; Ryou, smiling and open as a sunflower. /You saved him, yami!/

The Ring's spirit growled. /Don't get any ideas, hikari. I took out an opponent, nothing more./ He tested the patterns of magic one last time, listening for any hint their enemy might play the card again. Snorted, and retreated to the Ring. / _You_ deal with this./

Ryou smiled nervously at three pairs of accusing, stunned and terrified eyes. Looked past, to Yugi's encouraging smile. "Ah... glad I could help?"

* * *

  
"Munched." Dan was seated at Blair's desk, a mug of coffee pressed into shaking fingers. "It got munched...."

Closing the door to his captain's office behind them, Jim Ellison cast a dark look in the direction of their Duelist-packed interrogation room. Cocked an ear, obviously listening to make sure Megan had their guests properly corralled out of normal earshot. "It's them, Simon. These creatures are after them. The rest of us are just collateral damage." He crossed his arms, gaze hard. "What do we do with them?"

Simon shook his head, watching the bullpen as Blair talked their terrified medical examiner down. He didn't even want to think about the mess left over from what had been a straightforward autopsy. _Pieces_ was the least nauseating description that came to mind. _Set up appointment for Wolf with the department shrink_ , he noted down. Thought a second. _Check morgue audio-tape log. Make sure shrink knows he was_ not _hallucinating._ "Ellison, right now what I want to know is, what do I do with _you_."

"Simon-"

"Don't 'Simon' me, Detective. Not right now." Simon took off his glasses, rubbed throbbing temples. Damn, he should have grabbed a cup of coffee while the percolator was still scared of Kaiba. "I should have said something a long time ago. But I thought you and Sandburg were just working out the kinks in this sentinel thing."

"Simon-"

"And some of it was that," Simon acknowledged, running over his detective's protest. "Around the department, you're a hell of a lot easier to deal with. You smile. You trade info. And you are always, _always_ there when we need you." He seated his glasses back over his nose, shot a glare through scratch-resistant lenses. "The problem comes in when you have to deal with anyone _outside_ this department. And you do not play well with others, Detective."

Yep, there went the jaw grinding. "This is about Kaiba."

_Oh no you don't._ "This is about a consistent pattern of behavior, Detective. This is about the fact that any time somebody walks through that door who thinks he's just as much of a top dog as you are, you think you've got to take him down. Well I've got news for you, Detective." Simon drew himself up to his full height, deliberately looming over Jim's retreating blond hairline. " _I_ am the top dog in this department. Keep this up, and you're challenging _me_. And don't you dare think I won't take you down."

"I asked him _nicely_."

Simon eyed his detective. Let the silence draw out.

"He's the one who almost had a dragon in our laps!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Detective, Kaiba is seventeen," Simon said levelly. "Legal adult or not, he's a bundle of raw nerves and you know it. Forget the company. Forget the magic. He's a teenager with no parents, and a little brother to look after. A little brother who would've been _killed_ if Kaiba hadn't pulled one hell of a rabbit out of his hat this morning." Simon held that icy glare. "Given that mess downstairs, I'm willing to believe your cat could have done some serious damage. And Kaiba knew it. Which means you did _not_ ask him nicely, Detective. You might as well have pulled a gun on him. If Yugi hadn't been there to talk him down-"

A ghost of a flinch. Simon blinked. Reran events in his head. _Oh, hell._ "Yugi's like Blair."

"What makes you say that?" Jim asked, too quickly.

Simon arched a skeptical brow. "Behavior patterns, Jim. Hospital. Here. And Kaiba's got the same kind of raw edges _you_ used to have, before you got used to the puppy-dog eyes and all... that... bouncing...." Aw, no. No way. Couldn't be.

Only the way Jim's eyes suddenly slid aside, it damn well _could_ be.

"Jim." Simon gentled his tone. If what he suspected was true, there was a good reason for Ellison to be snapping at everything in sight. "Tell me they're not related."

A stranger would never have seen the wince. Simon sighed. "Talk to me, Jim."

"None of your business, Simon."

"When it's making you snap at people who could probably take on our whole SWAT team? It damn well _is_ my business."

Ellison shrugged reluctantly. "You know that guy Naomi never mentioned?"

Blair's father. What a thing to do to a kid. "Yeah."

"Solomon Mouto."

_Which makes one leather-clad Japanese teenager with innocent eyes, multiple personalities, and a bad case of magical decks... Blair's nephew_ , a part of Simon's mind that wasn't frozen in shock calculated. _Why me?_

"He said his family stonewalled Naomi when she tried to get in touch with him. That he didn't know he had a second son until a month or so ago," Jim went on, words grating over each other as he dragged them out. "I was listening. He was telling the truth." Ellison looked down at Simon's desk. "Yugi doesn't know."

Simon stifled the urge to pound his head against the wall. Or better yet, Jim's. _Your partner's had his world flip upside-down, and you're in here?_

Oh, right. That last bit was his fault.

"Go look after him, Jim." Simon lifted a hand as Ellison turned to leave. "This does not let you off the hook, Detective. You keep stepping on people's toes, somebody's going to drive a spike through your foot. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

  
"So..." Dan gulped down the last of his extra-sugared coffee. "Weird question to be asking a white boy, but - you know any way to keep the evil spirits out of my lab?"

"I'm working on it," Blair assured him, hand hovering near the bandages on the medical examiner's neck. Felt an odd prickle in his fingertips; a whisper of sensation, warmth and shadows and desert-clear air.

Why desert?

Yugi had held his hand over Dan's wound just like that while they were in the hall; Blair had seen a shimmer of gold and purple shadow swirl around small fingers, wiping away the lingering darkness in the Ghoul's bite.

_Just to be sure_ , Yugi had said. _Bakura sent the Ghoul back to our enemy's hand, but the walls are pretty thin right now. It wouldn't be good if something else latched onto the bite._

As if "something else" crashed through his life every day.

_Magic runs in my family as much as Kaiba's._

Blair chafed his arms, feeling suddenly chill. _No. No way. I've got enough weirdness in my life. I mean, come on, I_ died _already. I don't need monsters under the bed!_

"You okay?"

Blair relaxed into Jim's hand on his shoulder. "Been better." _Man, I don't want to say this._ But the last time he and Jim had left out little details, people had ended up dead. "There's something really strange about Yugi and Ryou."

"No kidding." But Jim's tone was understanding, not dismissive. _I'm listening._

"I keep hearing these whispers around them," Blair admitted. "That's how I knew Ryou was gone. It got quieter all of a sudden." Fingers clenched on his desk. "It's like I can almost hear the personalities talking to each other. Deciding when to switch, when to back off. I can't make out the words, they keep ducking when I try to listen but... god. That's-" He bit back _crazy_.

"I thought multiples switched personality under stress?" Jim's face was suspiciously still; the detective never liked admitting there were things he didn't know cold.

"Usually. Sometimes we don't always know the stressor, but-" Blair stopped. Thought about what he'd seen. "Jim. We've got a problem."

A dark blond brow lifted.

"Multiples don't pick which personality comes forward," Blair explained. "Those two do. And once an alter's got control, it's supposed to take a while before the core personality comes back. But you saw those two snap right back, just as soon as things calmed down. Heck, Yugi came back while Yami was calming Kaiba down...."

"And didn't miss a beat," Jim finished. "Not normal?"

"I don't know. I just don't know." Shaking confusion away, Blair tilted his head at Dan. "You said there was something you wanted us to see?"

"Yeah." With an effort of will, Dan steadied his hands. Flipped open a folder. "Jim. You asked for people to keep an eye out for anything weird in the way of suspicious circumstances?"

Jim flipped through the offered file. Frowned at the head shot of dilated eyes, brown barely visible around black pupils. "And you put down heart attack?"

"As tentative," Dan confirmed. "I haven't gotten the tox screen back yet, but so far everything but the eyes is consistent with massive heart failure."

"Dilation argues for narcotics," Jim pointed out.

"I know that, Jim," Wolf said patiently. "But I didn't find any needle-marks. No raw areas on the skin from a transdermal patch, no trace of smoke in the lungs, nothing in the stomach except half-digested blood. Which is a squick factor all in itself, but - I'm telling you, this guy just DKO."

"Done Keeled Over," Jim filled in at Blair's questioning look. He flipped through the rest of the pages. "Carl Olshaker. 38, dealer in rare books, finances in the toilet. No wants, no warrants... huh. There's a seven-year-old restraining order against him, filed by-" The detective whistled, and pointed Blair toward a paragraph.

"Corinne Santiago." Blair winced as he read the scene report, skimming the clinical details of what must have been a disturbing subversion of ancient rituals meant to lay the dead to rest. "Subject found in Point Grey Cemetery after some kid called in a report of vandalism." Sprawled on sigil-painted grass, with Corinne's picture floating in a cauldron of blood. Oh, man.

"Did you say Corinna? She's not-" Rafe glanced at the folder. "Oh, sorry. Wrong case."

"What about Corinna?" Jim pounced. Blair rolled his eyes. Jim was just constitutionally incapable of ignoring a Major Crimes case, no matter how many times Simon thwacked him over the head with the departmental regs.

"Miss Johnston's in the hospital," the younger detective admitted. "Coma. Your Jane Doe from this morning. H and I were heading over there to talk to her mother. Would have gotten to her sooner, but given what Kaiba did at Questscape-" He spread empty hands. "Though I suppose if it wasn't for Kaiba, she would be one of yours, Dan - Jim?"

The sentinel had pushed the folder aside, giving Dan a narrow look. "The body. The one that was mutilated. Questscape security?"

"So what was Questscape security doing in an alley with Miss Johnston?" Rafe flexed predatory fingers, a detective's sense of pieces that didn't fit awake and hungry. "Thanks, Jim. If we could get you two on this one...."

"But you can't." Jim seemed suspiciously at ease about it. "We'll just have to do our assigned duty of escorting a certain visiting Kaiba Corp. CEO instead."

Rafe grinned. "Which just happens to include getting a full description from Mokuba of exactly what went down in that alley?"

"Could we do any less?" Blair shrugged. And waited until Henri and Rafe were on their way out before whispering, "Are you insane? He said he didn't want our protection!"

"I'm not letting that crowd run loose in my city, Blair." There was no give in Jim's face. "Besides, you and Solomon need to talk. Without our visitors in earshot."

"Our-?" Oh. Spiky hair at six o'clock, with a ticked-off CEO on the right flank.

Spiky hair with an armful of brown hairball, sporting a full set of green claws. The creature's yellow eyes blinked at them, almost as wide and innocent as the teen carrying it. "Ohwoooh?"

Dan shrank back. "Oh god. Get it away!"

"It's all right," Yugi said hastily, scratching the hairball under what might have been a chin. "This is Kuriboh. He won't hurt you." He offered the critter like an oversized kitten, waiting until Dan reached out a tentative hand. "I thought you should see that not all the monsters mean to hurt you."

"Oooh?" Warm brown fur leaned into the M.E.'s stroke, purring.

_Laughing_ , Blair identified the odd, half-sound at the edge of his mind. _Yami. Doesn't sound mean, just-_

_Slam!_

The anthropologist suppressed the urge to shake out his fingers. He was standing in the middle of the bullpen; he had _not_ just gotten his hand slammed in a very cold, very heavy granite door.

_So why does it feel like I ought to have bruises?_

Some of the strain had left Dan's face. "Harmless, huh?"

"Unless you hit it," Kaiba said coolly. "Then it explodes."

Dan froze mid-scratch.

Yugi sighed. "Kaiba..."

"You don't want them trying to shoot it, do you?"

_What do you know? There_ is _a sense of humor under all that chill_ , Blair thought, catching sight of an infinitesimal curve of lips just before it vanished. _Way,_ way _under_.

"Um." Dan cleared his throat. "It's... uh, cute."

Jim's nostrils flared. He sniffed. "Does it shed?"

Kaiba crossed his arms, wrist-guards glinting in the sunset. The sardonic quirk of lips resurfaced, darker this time. "You've never met a fiend before, Detective. I doubt you could possibly be allergic-"

"Ah-choo!" Jim backed off, eyes watering. "Ged thad-" Another explosion of sneezes. "Damn!"

"Get it out of here!" Blair hustled his sentinel into a chair near an open window, glared at Dan and Yugi. This didn't look like a bad reaction, not yet. "You two. Bathroom. Scrub off. Now!"

"Blea-choo!"

"And you." Blair switched his glare to the smirking CEO as the Kuriboh-exposed pair skidded into the hall. "You knew that would happen."

"No." Storm-wild, that gaze, and just as deadly careless of human frailty. "But I suspect Bakura did."

"Ba'gura..." Jim managed.

"He has a truly vicious sense of humor." Kaiba shrugged. "Consider yourselves warned."

"He's god a regord."

Almost in the hallway, Kaiba stopped. Turned. Gave Jim a cool, unimpressed look. "You'll have to come up with better lies than that, Detective. Anyone who knows Bakura knows he doesn't have a record. And I doubt he ever will." Trench coat flaring, he swept out of sight.

"Mind clueing me in on what that was for?" Blair grumbled, testing exposed skin for any sign of hives. Little feverish, definitely congested, but so far Jim looked okay. This time.

"You're-" Jim blew his nose. "Anthropologist. Group dynamics?"

Blair hesitated. Fit that interaction against the other behavior he'd seen from the Duelists. _Kaiba doesn't trust Bakura. And he and Ryou aren't friends. Not that I think Kaiba's got friends..._ "Yugi's holding them together. How?"

"Maybe some things run in the family, Chief." Jim tousled curly hair. "So get out there and tell your nephew I'm not going to drop dead on him, okay? He sounds pretty upset."

Nephew. God. "You're that sure?"

"We can run a DNA test," the sentinel shrugged. "But even Simon can see it."

Blair's stomach flip-flopped. "Oh god. What's he going to think? What's he going to say?" Cops had a lot more experience with the mentally unhinged than the average man on the street, most of it bad. Multiples weren't _bad_ , exactly; though one or more of the personalities might have a larcenous or even homicidal streak, they weren't as unpredictably erratic and hazardous to life and limb as, say, your average paranoid schizophrenic...

"I say you worry too much, Sandburg."

Blair stiffened. "Simon-"

"Blair." The captain stepped around the desk to face him. "I looked up shamans, after I finally pried that little detail out of your partner. And I did a little research on Santeria. Experts say alternate personalities come with the territory. They _also_ say those personalities show up early to late teens." Simon thumped him on the arm. "Now, given that you're closer to my handsomely mature age than acne and still all in one piece, I'd say you're not going to crack on us. So relax. _Breathe_. That's an order."

Almost against his will, Blair felt comforted. Simon was okay with this. The rock of Major Crimes was steady under his feet. "Thanks, Simon."

"And get these lunatics out of my station before they find something else to blow up!"


	5. Chapter 5

_"Pizza!"_

"Finally," Ellison grumbled as Mai, Mokuba and Ryou mobbed room service. "Something they do like ordinary kids."

Solomon sighed, watching Kaiba watch them suspiciously as the Duelists sorted out their various orders and vanished into the next room of Kaiba's hotel suite. Yugi was the last to disappear, with a mouthed, _Don't worry, Grandpa_. "To a great extent they are ordinary children, Detective." Solomon contemplated his first slice, dug in with appreciation. Even by Domino City standards, it had been a long day. "They're also people who've been in more potentially lethal situations than I want to remember. Kaiba once spent the better part of a week keeping one step ahead of Maximillian Pegasus' security forces, all the while knowing that Pegasus had Mokuba and meant to use the boy to take Kaiba Corporation for himself."

Salad off to the side, pepperoni and extra cheese in hand, Blair swallowed. "Security forces, as in...?"

"Men who had every intention of shooting him. Yes. And at the time, Kaiba had no magic to face them. Only luck, and skill, and nerves of pure steel." Solomon sipped his tea. "I don't particularly like Seto Kaiba, Dr. Sandburg. He's cold, arrogant, and far too prone to stepping on people when he wants something. But. He is honorable. He looks after Mokuba, whatever the cost. And Yugi believes he's worth saving."

"Blair."

"Blair," Solomon said softly, acknowledging the uncertainty in his son's voice. "Thank you."

"Thank us by telling us what we're up against." Jim crossed his arms. "Blair says this game's been around a while. How come nothing like this ever happened before?"

"Oh, it may well have," Solomon admitted wryly. "People tend not to believe magic, even when they see it. But your city's aura seems to be particularly fragile at the moment. And more to the point, you have four Battle City finalists in there. They don't just know the Heart of the Cards, they live it."

Ellison scowled. "Heart of the what?"

"It's the way the deck... feels in your hands," Blair said awkwardly. "How you know to stand pat, because the next card won't help; or discard and draw, because it's going to be good." He spread frustrated hands. "I keep trying to tell you guys, you've got to _feel_ what the cards want."

Jim shot his partner a sideways glance. "That's just odds, Blair. Anybody in the department knows you can calculate poker hands faster than Vegas."

"Part of it is calculating the odds, yes." Solomon worked his way through a bit of crust. "Allow me to make a guess, though? When you have won off Blair at cards, he's been either sick, or playing with a fresh deck."

Silence.

"That's the magic." Solomon kept his tone even, matter-of-fact. _Gently. Gently._ "Even Yugi, if he were playing with a deck that wasn't his, couldn't win except by luck. And he knows every strategy I've ever learned."

Ellison barely seemed to glance at his too-quiet partner. "What did Yugi mean about our department having things to hide?"

_You're a good friend, Detective. I'm lucky my son has you._ "You wouldn't know it from my grandson's test scores, but he's quite good at solving intellectual puzzles as well as physical ones. I read him a bit of the translated Hayashibara texts, and he evidently put that together with your spotting the Sinister Serpent across the park as quickly as I did." Solomon arched a gray brow. "You might also be interested to know that a similar phenomenon was once recorded in ancient Egypt; the _saew-seba_ and his companion _seshem_. The Guard of Stars, who could see and hear what other mortals could not. And his Guide, who healed violence done to _ma'at_ , the right order of things, by mortal crimes; putting restless souls back on the path to the West and casting out evil spirits lodged in the hearts of men." _And I'd best leave it at that. Bakura_ will _use violence rather than be removed from Ryou... and if it were Yami in the same straits, I'd be very surprised if he didn't attempt to kill anyone trying._

Solomon winced at the thought. Granted, he knew more of Yami than he did of this unexpected offspring of Naomi's, but at least Blair was human.

_And Yami isn't?_ A contrary part of his mind asked. _Spirit or not, he considers Yugi's friends his as well; he considers you family. He_ protects _Yugi, when you can't, fiercely as Kaiba does Mokuba. Hasn't he earned at least as much of a chance?_

_I don't know...._

"I don't...." Blair shuddered. "I don't see spirits, Solomon."

"You saw four twins where I saw two kids, Chief," Jim pointed out. "Maybe alters aren't what we usually think of as spirits, but I'd sure call them restless souls. Didn't you once say a lot of historical possessions were just mentally ill people in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Yeah." Blair rested his chin on the back of his hand. "How long have you known about Yami? If you don't mind."

"Only a little longer than I've known about you," Solomon admitted. It was a relief to talk about it, even if he did have to skirt the truth. "I literally walked into the room one day and saw someone else looking out of my grandson's eyes."

"Ouch."

"He did try to break the news gently," Solomon sighed. "I keep wondering if I shouldn't have seen it before. Shouldn't have done something before. Now... well, we're learning."

"Sometimes people are too good at hiding things. Especially when they're trying to protect their family." Blair's hand rested on his arm. "Do you know what caused the split? If there's only two personalities, it's not too bad yet. Sometimes, if they can work out their trauma, they can reintegrate. Become one person again."

_That's precisely what I'm worried about._ "Yugi came to live with me when he was eight, after my son and his wife died," Solomon said plainly. "That's a week I prefer not to think about. His mother's family didn't exactly approve of her marrying my son; if Yugi hadn't had my number in his pocket and thought to dial it...."

"I'd call that trauma," Blair muttered. "Know anything about Ryou?"

"Ryou lost his mother and sister in a car accident, and his father... well, Mr. Bakura's an excellent archaeologist, and he does look after his son financially, but he's quite often gone." Solomon sighed. "I didn't realize _how_ often until Yugi and his friends started checking up on Ryou. The poor boy's so alone."

"And they're both really nice kids, right?" Blair asked. "They think they're not supposed to get angry just because it still hurts. They probably think they're not supposed to get angry, period."

_They're hikaris, yes_. "They can get angry, but it's rare."

Blair toyed with a piece of crust. "Yeah, that would probably do it."

Jim snorted. "That would do it? You didn't have a father and you came out fine. No offense, Solomon," he added in an undertone.

Blair dropped the crust into what was left of his salad. "I didn't lose half my family, Jim. I didn't have to deal with people who were supposed to look after me not wanting me. And I sure as heck didn't have magic like theirs amplifying the whole mess while I was in the middle of high school..." Horror paled his face. "Those three are in the same high school? And it's still standing?"

"Domino High has suffered some interesting structural damage over the past year, and I'm told the school counselor won't come within ten feet of Bakura," Solomon said wryly, pouring himself another cup of tea. "Thankfully the six of them together seem to be too much for the bullies to start much." Now, at least. _Let's not think about Ushio_.

"Six?" Jim glanced at the door.

Was it suspiciously quiet in the next room? _Yugi, whatever you're up to, be careful._ "Yes, you might as well hear about the rest of them...."

* * *

  
"So," Mai yawned, setting her mug down as they polished off the last bits of supper. "We've got a Duelist who likes snakes - all the way up to sea serpents - and attacking graveyards." She stretched out on the peacock-blue couch, chin propped on her hand. "You're sure it's just one? I mean, we were miles apart..."

"The will behind the Serpent felt the same as that in the morgue," Ryou nodded, sitting neatly in a carved wood chair.

"And there's no way we missed three Battle City-class Duelists in one city," Mokuba said firmly, snuggling up against a violet trench coat. "Right, big brother?"

"Hmm." Kaiba calculated the odds once more. America had a far higher proportion of amateur to professional Duelists than Japan, but Kaiba Corp.'s information-gathering department ensured that he still heard about the good ones. "No."

"And as far as we can tell, it takes at least that level of skill with the cards to start summoning monsters," Yugi added, perched on a stool. "Even if things are easy to call right now, somebody out there is really good."

"Excuse me. Level of skill? Joey?" Mai said pointedly.

White hair bristled; Bakura snorted before Kaiba could decide whether to be insulted or amused. "You'd better be certain your silence charm holds, pharaoh," the tomb robber said darkly, pose shifting from Ryou's neatness to an arrogant lounge in his chair. "A _saew-seba_ like Ellison can hear a falcon slip sideways in the wind, and I'd rather not give all our secrets into the hands of our enemies."

Kaiba glanced at the subtle gold glimmer lacing the edge of the doorway, a tracery of hieroglyphs and words that recalled misty memories of night meetings, and lamplight, and daggers drawn to make a point about the next battle.

_"Ineb, ger,"_ Yami had murmured, tracing fingers down the doorway. _"Seba, ger. Seger sheni-en, sha-i!"_

_Wall, be silent_ , echoed still in Kaiba's mind, waking the memory of gold against his skin, the rustle of fine linen that haunted his dreams. _Door, be silent. Quiet surrounds us, I command!_

_Not my memories_ , the CEO insisted stubbornly. _When I want to go unheard, I sweep for bugs. I've never planned a campaign. Never relied on the Shadow Realm to hide knowledge of my plans from the enemy..._

"The detectives aren't our enemies," Yugi said patiently.

Bakura growled. "They believe we're causing the monsters to attack. They're _saew-seba_ and _seshem_. Like it or not, little one, those who hold the law here _are_ our enemies."

Mai arched a delicate brow. "Translation for those of us who don't have ancient spirits stuck in our heads?"

"Um... that's kind of what we can't let them know about," Yugi said reluctantly. "Dr. Sandburg might be able to affect spirits."

"Oh?" Mai blinked tiredly. "Uh-oh."

Kaiba hid a wince as Mokuba's fingers gripped his arm with panicked strength. "What could he do to nii-sama?"

A wry smile twisted Bakura's lips. "The high priest-"

Storm-blue eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that."

"Sorcerer, then. Or would you deny that as well?" The tomb robber weighed his snarling silence. "I didn't think so." Bakura shrugged, hair falling over his shoulders like wild snow. "You're an incarnation, Seto Kaiba. You're no more at risk than Yugi. And no less."

"Mind defining just what-" Mai yawned again, fighting to keep her eyes open. "What risk means? Man, when Joey said summoning wiped you out, he wasn't kidding."

"There won't be a risk, so long as Sandburg doesn't know we're any more than delusions of the mind," Bakura said shortly. "If he does - stay clear, Valentine. Ryou wouldn't like to see you caught in the crossfire."

Amethyst eyes met amber, stern as steel. "Okay," Mai acknowledged. "But you two come out in one piece, you hear me? Or _I'm_ going after him." Another yawn threatened to split her jaw. "Guys, I've just about had it. Anybody has any bright ideas on how to get this Duelist, speak now."

Mokuba's fingers finally stopped trying to cut off his brother's circulation. "Can you track him?"

Amber softened into chocolate. "We've been trying," Ryou admitted. "But the Ring doesn't seem to be seeking any one direction. It could be he's simply out of range."

"Out of range and still dropping monsters on top of us?" Mai shuddered. "Anybody mind if I stay behind you guys?"

"What if we tried a grid search?" Mokuba persisted.

"It'll have to wait," Kaiba said curtly. And felt his brother stiffen. _Damn. I didn't mean-_

The Puzzle flashed gold. "Your brother's right, Mokuba," Yami said matter-of-factly. "It's a sound plan. But we're all weary. If we did find our opponent, he might have the advantage. We should wait until morning."

"Okay," Mokuba said quietly, eyes down.

Kaiba put a hand on his brother's shoulder, wishing he could will himself to do more. _Sometimes I hate you, Yami._ "The suite has two baths, Valentine; one attached to the room you'll have for the night. I suggest you use it now, so we don't have to drag you out before you drown."

"Charming as ever, Kaiba." Lifting a small bag she'd salvaged from the damaged _Luck_ , Mai headed for hot water like a needle to a magnet.

"Mokuba."

"Aw, nii-sama. I'm not-" A yawn ambushed his little brother, and Mokuba grinned sheepishly. "Tired?"

"Go," Kaiba said softly. "Sleep."

"Spoilsport...."

"Thank goodness." Ryou sighed as the bathroom door closed behind the grumbling twelve-year-old, silver locks losing some of their spiky edge as Bakura retreated to the Ring. "I really didn't want to mention this around other ears... Yugi. Bakura was tracking Shadow Magic to the morgue before the Ghoul appeared. And... we found it."

"Oh?" Violet eyes blinked. "Oh." Yugi's shoulders slumped.

Ryou nodded slowly. "Did you want to talk about it?"

Wordless, Yugi shook his head.

"Are you certain?" Ryou persisted gently. "I know... I know how it hurts. Even when you're protecting yourself-"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Yugi cut him off. "Just leave me alone!"

Kaiba started as the small teen dashed out of sight, slamming the bedroom door behind him. _Yugi? Upset?_ He stood, stalking toward the tomb robber's host. "Explain."

Ryou sighed, running fingers through pale hair. "I'd estimate somewhere around midnight last night, Yami won a Shadow Game."

Kaiba blinked. Well, of _course_ Yami had won, Yugi wouldn't be standing if he hadn't-

And fact fitted with fact, and Kaiba kept his face very still. _Dear gods._ "As in lethally won."

"I'm afraid so, yes." Ryou's troubled gaze met his. "He won't talk to me; not that I can blame him, even if Bakura felt slightly sympathetic he'd be too busy glaring at Yami for any of us to get a word in edgewise. Would you go to him?"

"He said he didn't want to talk." _And I won't make him. Not if... damn, Yami, if what Tristan suspects is true, you've blocked his memory of other kills. Couldn't you have blocked him from this? Yugi doesn't need-_

And Kaiba cut that thought off, and forced his fists open. Yugi had been willing to hold him, protect him, even as the youngster had been bombarded with the summoned memory of the first time Kaiba had used the Shadows to kill. How could Yugi do less for the other half of his soul?

Damn.

"But he will." A flash of the Ring, and Bakura's deadly seriousness looked back at him. "One way or another. If Tristan is telling the truth about Yami's memory, then he doesn't remember what a Guide is. How they push at your emotions. Make you more likely to voice secrets best left unshared. That's why they were banned from pharaoh's presence; for the living god, whose word is the Shadow's law, must always have the freedom to lie." The spirit's voice dropped to a smoky whisper. "That's why you want to kill them, sorcerer."

_I don't_ -

Oh, but part of him did. Part of him felt that creeping urge to be open around Sandburg, and loathed it with all the passion self-preservation could kindle. Tell the truth about what he was, what he could do? What he had done, when need and hate coincided? Ellison was a danger, yes, but vulnerable to a well-chosen Monster. Sandburg was a threat to him, to Mokuba, to all that was his.

_I'm not losing that damn pharaoh before I've had a chance to beat him_ , Kaiba thought darkly. "Will the silence hold?" It'd do no good to get Yugi talking if Ellison overheard every word.

"I'll hold it." Fangs flashed at his skeptical glance. "This is a matter of self-interest, sorcerer. If we're discovered - Yami's relatively benign, so far as Darkness goes. What in the worlds do you think Sandburg would try to do to me?"

"Try?" Kaiba smirked.

"The day I can't best a half-trained Guide is the day I'll die," Bakura said dryly. "Again."

Easing through the bedroom door, Kaiba tracked the echo of sobs. That shadow, there on the bed....

A shadow that was two shadows, the translucent form of his rival cradling Yugi against his chest as the spirit's hand rubbed soothing circles on his weeping hikari's back. Ruby eyes glared at Kaiba, daring him to speak one vicious word.

Kaiba pressed a finger to his lips for silence. _I don't want to hurt him. If only I could tell you-_

/I hear you, Kaiba./ A shadowy whisper, like a breeze tickling chestnut hair. /What do you want?/

_I - how_ -

/Come closer. The Shadows don't carry well without strong emotion behind them./ Faded lips curled in a smile. /And you know _how_ , Seto Kaiba./

The Puzzle, Kaiba realized, finger involuntarily tracing the Horus eye that had surfaced on his locket that fateful day in New York. That damn Puzzle, that snared them all and bound them all in ways he still didn't begin to understand. He wasn't even surprised that Mai and Bakura had turned up; the only strangeness was that the rest of the bunch hadn't somehow been drawn to Cascade in their wake.

The smile curved, became the familiar smirk he'd faced across and stood beside in duels that meant not just pride, but life and death. /Are you afraid of me, Kaiba?/

What sane person wouldn't be? _You, evidently_ , Kaiba told himself as he approached the pair. _Though your sanity's been in question for a long time_. Odd; the bed was distinctly dented under Yami, though he knew the spirit had no physical weight. _What do I do now?_

Yami arched a dark brow, nodded toward Yugi's other side. /You know he won't bite./

No. Though there were those who'd done far less to Yugi than he had, who certainly deserved to face Yami in a Shadow Game....

And he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, trench coat discarded, opening his arms to the sobbing teen as Yami gently wedged his aibou between them. _Mokuba. Just try to think of it as holding Mokuba._

Only it wasn't. The feel in his arms, the faint scent of apple and roses in spiky hair, the sudden tension as Yugi realized more than a spirit held him... all added up to not his brother.

/It's all right, aibou. He only came to talk./

"Does Solomon know?" Kaiba heard the cold growl in his voice, tried to soften it. "You don't have to answer that. You don't have to say anything."

Tears glittered as Yugi nodded. "He's angry. He doesn't say it, but...."

_Damn. I'm not the mutt - Wheeler. I don't know how to deal with this_.

But then, Wheeler had never decided a man had to die, had he?

"It breaks something inside you," Kaiba said bluntly. "Deciding your life is worth more than theirs. Choosing to kill them, rather than let them kill you. Choosing to win, whatever the cost." He looked down at steely wrist-guards, knowing what metal and leather hid. Knowing the price he had paid for power. For Mokuba. For what was left of his shattered self. _And I'd do it again._ "And then you pick up what's left, and go on." He sighed. "Your grandfather is a good man. But I doubt he's ever been broken."

"I didn't want to hurt him."

_Solomon? Or the man you killed?_ Probably both, knowing Yugi. "Your Grandpa knows that."

The spiky head shook. "He thinks - he thinks Yami...." Tears dripped onto Kaiba's shirt, turning it a darker black.

/Help him, Kaiba./ Was that distress in the spirit's voice? /Yugi sees too truly. I've tried to convince Solomon of my intentions. But I - I cannot deny _what_ I am./

_Nor can I_ , Seto knew. He'd dueled the pharaoh with souls on the line, after all; he _knew_ Yami, in ways only three others on this planet might.

Pegasus. Malik. Bakura.

Oh yes. He knew Yami as he knew his own reflection. The will to win. To survive. To triumph.

And the fierce determination to do anything - _anything_ \- to protect the one you loved.

"I know you," Kaiba said harshly. "I know you can stop Yami if you want to. I know you would have, if there had been any other choice. Any other _sane_ choice." His grip tightened on the smaller teen. "Allowing someone to take an innocent life is not a sane choice!"

"Kaiba - not so _tight!_ "

Kaiba relaxed his grip, inwardly relieved. _He's looking after himself. Good. That's the first step._

/You won't like the next one./

Kaiba frowned. What next one?

And gold bumped against damp cotton as Yugi snuggled into his shoulder.

Kaiba froze, quelling the reflex to shove this intruder away. _What is he_ doing?

/Yugi needs to touch, Kaiba. The others are not here... and Grandpa has been reluctant to hold us. To hold me./ Kaiba saw anger flash in ruby eyes, a bitter grimace of swallowed pride. /It hurts him. It makes him feel - contaminated. Accursed. Alone./

As he'd been, playing the perfect young businessman while fresh bandages kept blood from staining his uniform. _No. No one should go through that. Never again._ Jaw set as if he walked into fire, Kaiba willed himself to relax.

/Easy, Kaiba. Let me help./

Light shimmered from his locket, and the fine edge of tension softened, as if someone had wrapped gossamer around his raw nerves. The perception of threat flickered out of his consciousness; the creature in his arms was no more a danger than his Blue Eyes, and no less welcome. _What the hell are you doing?_

/Taking some of your pain./ The spirit moved into their embrace, laying a transparent hand against the cheek Yugi was not snuggled under. /You're here, Kaiba - and he needs _someone_. He needs to know more of the world than me loves him for who he is. Here. Now./

He loved Mokuba. That was all. That was all he dared. _I don't-_

"Seto."

Trust. Pure, unshakable trust in that grieving voice. And the little one was so warm....

/It's all right, aibou. It's all right to cry. We're here. We have you./

After what seemed like eternity, sobs finally dried out. Yami dropped him a silent wink, vanishing into the Puzzle.

Sipping water as Yugi nestled into his covers, Kaiba washed down another aspirin. _Damn headache._ It'd been a long day, yet he was used to those. This....

Aftereffects of the Mirror Wall. Had to be. Everything was bright and dark and rawer than it should be.

*It's the magic here,* a draconic rumble noted. *We should join you. Ground you.*

_Not a chance._ No room here, and he definitely did not feel up to venturing onto the hotel roof now that night had fallen.

As if he'd ever call dragons out of the cards of his own will, anyway.

Puzzled hurt. *Why not? You're ours. We need to take care of you.*

Kaiba snorted. He didn't need taking care of.

"They're right, you know." Eyes barely open, Yugi snuggled unobtrusively closer. The lights of his hotel suite seemed to ease back into proper behavior around the small Duelist, burning steadily instead of flickering. "Grandpa says the magic here can be a real problem if you're not used to it. It's rough. Lots of mixed flows."

"It's a headache." Made worse by the sinking realization that Valentine's current rooms were awash on the damaged _Luck of the Draw_ , Yugi wasn't letting Ryou or Mokuba out of sight, Sandburg and Ellison weren't letting any of them out of reach, and his hotel suite had, by default, become Duelist central. Made much worse by trying to get Mokuba to eat a healthy amount of vegetables with his ham-and-green-pepper slices. His little brother actually liked salad, but no self-respecting twelve-year-old was about to admit that. "Only a headache."

"Seto...." Yugi edged closer. "Let me help."

Kaiba kept his voice low; no need to distract Mokuba from any sleepy chatter he might have started with Ryou. His little brother deserved more friends. Mokuba was kind and warm and wonderful; there was no reason he should chain himself to a man with a heart of ice. "Don't touch me."

A shift in the form beside him, familiar as the wind in the dawn. "Always stubborn."

"As if you have room to throw stones." He would not look at Yami. He would not.

And fingers settled on his arm, gripping firm just above the edge of his wrist-guards. Firm enough to trace the edge of scars Yugi knew - _knew_ \- were there, scars Kaiba had never let anyone view of his own will.

_Seto._ A whisper through the shadows, a shiver he hadn't felt since that horrid duel when Yami had faced his cast-out darkness once more. _You're hurt. You're tired. Let us help._

_I told you. Don't touch me._ Yet the words wouldn't come. Yami's touch was... warm, and familiar, and strangely without pain.

/If you wish us to go, we will./ The whisper was closer, more solid. Shadows on a warm summer's night, endlessly more real than the flimsy lights and sounds of a dream called Cascade. / _Mery-i._ Rest here a while, my friend, my brother. We will take up your watch. You, and all that you love, are safe./

_Mokuba..._ Nightmares were pressing close and fast; he could sense them. And when his dreams turned dark, his brother's would be close behind. _Mokuba needs me._

*Let me go to him.*

Kaiba arched a skeptical brow, thinking of a Blue Eyes in comparison with the hotel doorways. _Can you_ fit?

Draconic laughter. *With help. We don't _have_ to be that big....*

And goose-down was under his head, desert wind singing him into welcoming darkness.

* * *

  
_Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up_ , Ryou chanted from his soul room, watching Bakura hold the silence charm as Mokuba snored on the flattened recliner. The charm was holding sounds out as well as in, but he didn't have to hear a fist pounding wood to see the door vibrate under a policeman's distinctive knock. _Oh, sweet Isis... what am I_ saying?

His yami snickered. /They'll need Her help if they cross the pharaoh in this mood, believe me./ Amber eyes narrowed as the door went still. /Yami! Warn your hikari. They're coming in!/

_Crash_.

"-The gun might be just a _little_ overkill, Jim..." Blair smiled weakly from behind the armed detective. "Ah, hi."

Blinking as his body was released, Ryou frowned. "Is there something wrong, detectives?"

Ellison gave him a narrow look. Deliberately stored his gun away. "We couldn't hear anything from in here."

"Ah. And acting on the principle that silence is deadly, you decided to ignore common civility and investigate the hard way." _Oh, dear._ Ryou swallowed. _Did I say that? I didn't mean to say that!_

A dark chuckle echoed down his link. /Oh, yes you did./

_Oh, no...._

/They're cops, hikari. Not kittens. You can get angry at them. They won't shatter./ Another dark laugh. /Now, if _I_ got angry at them.../

"There could have been a monster in here," Ellison said bluntly.

"In which case you would have heard altogether too much, I assure you," Ryou said dryly. "Mouto-san. We saved you the couch."

"Thank you, young man." Solomon nodded. "But where will you be?"

Ryou waved toward his sleeping bag in the corner. "I've had worse on digs, really." _Now would you get out of here, you idiots?_ He could see the twitch that presaged a nightmare cross Mokuba's sleeping face, and waking up to hostile cops in his room was not going to help. "Is something wrong?"

Three pairs of eyes were wide; Solomon's surprised, Sandburg and Ellison's stunned and wary. The Star-Guard reached for his gun-

_Growl_....

And thought better of it.

"Oh, dear," Ryou murmured. Steeled himself, and turned.

_I didn't know they could be that small_.

Blue-white scales shone softly in the low light; silver glimmered off a wing as the Blue Eyes White Dragon curled around Mokuba's improvised bed. The scaled head settled next to the mumbling boy, nudged him gently.

Shaking, the boy reached out. Touched warm scales. And sighed in his sleep. "Seto."

With a low rumble, the dragon wrapped a wing over its slumbering charge. Blinked at the cops. Silently bared its fangs.

"Bedtime it is," Ryou murmured. "Don't you think?"

"But - that-" the Guide managed.

"That, Blair, is a Blue Eyes White Dragon," Solomon said firmly. "Kaiba and I are the only people in the world who hold those cards. He won't hurt Mokuba."

_Though the rest of us are rather up for grabs_ , Ryou couldn't help but think. _Er - I'd really rather not go anywhere tonight, yami._

/Do I feel suicidal to you?/ The Ring's spirit snorted. /If that Duelist truly is targeting us, I'd rather not be easy prey./

_If?_

/If,/ Bakura said firmly. /I know vengeance when I feel it, hikari. No one truly bent on making their foe suffer would have stopped simply because we disposed of their first Monsters. No./ Calculation filtered down his link; an image of Bakura leaning against his soul room wall, casually trimming nails with a dagger as he thought. /Whatever they struck for, they hit... what is that fool of a Guide doing?/

Ryou moved closer as Blair's pen scratched over paper, carefully copying the remnants of hieroglyphs on the doorframe. "Do you study Egyptology?"

"I get the feeling I'm going to be taking a crash course."

"Yeah. About that." Ellison yanked his gaze from the dozing dragon, studied him narrowly as Blair traced one last golden stroke. "You and Yugi, I get. Sort of. Archaeology's obviously in your families. But why does Kaiba know Ancient Egyptian?"

/Lie, hikari. Lie as close to the truth as you can./

_I know_. "It's the heart of Duel Monsters," Ryou said truthfully. "Pegasus based the game off something he found in a dig. One of the most powerful cards can't be used in the game unless you can read it." _And I never, ever want to see the Winged Dragon of Ra again._

/You don't, perhaps./

Kaiba _doesn't want to touch a God Card again, yami. High priest Seth, who you say never wanted anything more than power, doesn't want to go near them. Doesn't that tell you something?_

/Hmph./

Blair levered himself off the floor. "You're kidding."

Ryou frowned. There was something oddly familiar about that skeptical look. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Something about the eyes....

Regarding the Guide through his mind, Bakura choked. /Hathor's sweet-/

_I don't know that word, and I don't want to!_

A skeptical snort. /You're seventeen, hikari. You shouldn't be _that_ ignorant of the finer qualities of women./

_This isn't ancient Egypt, nobles don't marry or take concubines at thirteen, and I do_ not _want to know what you were thinking!_

/And people think Yugi's the innocent one./ Bakura shrugged, flipping a dagger in his mind. /Then ask him. Before I do./

_Ask him-?_ Bakura's surety wrapped around him, and Ryou considered dropping dead of shock. _Sweet Ra - I mean, kami-sama, I-_

"Stop whispering at yourself and tell me how you guys shut down the sound in here," Blair said, pen tapping paper impatiently. "That doesn't look like a card to me."

Ryou stared at the Guide for a stunned moment, jaw slightly agape. Turned to violet eyes so much like Yugi's. So much like... gods. "M-mouto-san. Is he - does Yugi - oh lord, he couldn't. You're his grandfather, he wouldn't see it, he wouldn't even be looking...."

Solomon's gaze dropped first. "Don't tell him."

"Tell him?" Ryou squeaked, lowering his voice as Mokuba twitched. "Are you mad? Can we say, ooh, look at the pretty explosions?"

Ellison loomed over him. "You think he'd be violent?"

"Yugi? No. Yami, absolutely. Ra only knows what he'd do." Ryou blew out a breath. "Do us all a favor, Mouto-san? When you do tell him, take him out somewhere there aren't any people and he can shatter a few rocks, hmm?" Turning on his heel, Ryou headed for the bathroom, firmly determined to pull a sleeping bag over his head and not think about any of this until dawn. "Good lord, as if our lives weren't messy enough." _Stop laughing, yami! It's not funny!_

"Speaking of messy." There was a dark, angry note in Ellison's voice that sent chills down Ryou's spine. "Blair. You'd better see this."

"See what?" Ryou asked warily, hearing the footsteps behind him head... oh no. Oh no, not that! He dashed for the bedroom - or tried to, dodging a slumbering curve of white tail took precious seconds. "Detective, you don't want to go that way-"

A dark snicker. /Five gold on the pharaoh frying the Guard before he touches Kaiba./

Oh gods.

And he was at the door - but Ellison had made it through first, and now Ryou truly was panicking. If there was one and only one rule everyone in their group down to Solomon followed, it was, _never sneak up on a hikari_.

But Ellison only stood a few feet inside the doorway, scowling. Beckoned his partner and Solomon close enough to look.

Pressed against the side of the doorway, Ryou regarded the quiet room. _Nothing's scorched, at least_.

Wrist-guards glinted on the nightstand. A violet trench coat was neatly draped over a chair. Some of Yugi's innumerable belts and buckles were piled on the blankets at the foot of the bed; Gothic armor of midnight, waiting for their owner to reclaim them. And in the bed itself....

_Well, that's... remarkably peaceful_.

Pale sheets rose and fell with paired breathing, chestnut hair almost brushing multicolored spikes. Kaiba's long frame was curled on himself as if against desert chill, dark sleeves buttoned up to the wrists, one hand tucked under a pillow so fingers would have ready access to whatever deadly secret he'd stored there. Yugi was a small, lean sprawl guarding his back; Puzzle at his neck, frown knotting dark brows in his sleep, deck an evident lump under his own pillow.

/Peaceful?/ Bakura snorted. /That, hikari, is an explosion waiting to happen./

_I wish I didn't agree with you_.

Ellison's lips thinned; he held up a hand when his partner would have stammered something. Ushering Blair back out, he eased the bedroom door closed behind them.

/Damn./

_Yami, if you want the two of us to get out of this city in one Ring-bound piece, having the pharaoh flash-fry Ellison will_ not _help!_

Fangs gleamed in the shadows of his mind. /But it'd be _fun_./

True, the man was annoying... aggh! _Stop that!_

A Cheshire-cat grin flashed down his link.

_Bloody wonderful_. Ryou let out a slow breath, forcing down his other's leaking homicidal tendencies to a low roar of irritation with the world in general. His mother had taught him what most who read Alice's adventures never realized; the original Cheshire cat was a vampire....

No. Breathe. In, out; calm, _calm_ -

"You've got a problem, Solomon."

Ryou blinked, looking up at Ellison's serious expression. _What now?_

"I see that," Mouto said numbly, taking a shaky seat on the couch.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not sure you do." Jim Ellison snared a chair, sat facing the older man. "I've seen people like Kaiba before. And I've seen scars like that before."

"Scars?" Blair pounced.

Jim tapped his wrists. "Looked like burns. Could just barely see the edge past his cuffs. Guy's got reason for staying covered up." He grimaced. "Mr. Mouto. Yugi and Ryou may have problems, but take it from me, Seto Kaiba is _seriously_ emotionally screwed up." He arrowed a dark look Ryou's way. "What worries me more is that you're obviously helping."

"I - er-"

/Meretseger's fangs!/ Bakura snarled at the very thought. /He thinks we _want_ to help that blasted pharaoh?/

_I'm quite sure you're only doing so because it's in our best interest, yami. Would you_ relax?

"How much did you find out about your condition before you scared the counselor off?"

Ryou tried to scoot away from Ellison's quiet chill. _Dragon that way, bedroom that way... damn._ "Try to keep to a regular schedule, try not to get stressed out, try not to kill anyone... joking, I was joking!" he said hastily as icy blue glared at him.

"No, you weren't." The detective's fingers curled into a fist.

"Out of our jurisdiction, Jim." Blair laid a hand on his partner's arm, studying the silver-haired teen. "Look. I'm sure Yugi wants to help. He's a nice kid, he can't just walk by when somebody's hurting. But somebody like Kaiba... that's a job for professionals, man."

Hmm. Reluctant as he was to admit it, they had a bit of a point-

/Mine,/ Bakura said flatly, stalking into the corridor between their soul rooms.

Ryou dipped his head slightly, trying to relax into the switch. _Don't kill anyone._

/No promises, yadonushi. I could use a good fight./

"Ah. _Professionals_." Bakura's fangs gleamed. "I've dealt with those. The same professionals who believe talking to your cards is reason enough to fit you out for one of those annoying white jackets that tie in the back?"

"You again." Ellison stiffened. "If I could split you off from Ryou, I'd lock you up and throw away the key."

Bakura laughed darkly. "I'd enjoy watching you try." He stalked around the anthropologist, ran fingers through curly brown hair before Blair could jerk away. "But who'd protect you from Yami then? He doesn't _like_ you, Detective. He doesn't like you at all. You threatened his fiercest rival; and if there's one thing Yami favors above all else, it's an opponent he can battle to the end."

"Yugi would stop him." Yet Solomon's voice wavered, and a wrinkled hand clenched on the couch arm.

"Not so sure, are you?" Bakura snorted. "You shouldn't be. You know what we've faced, Mouto. Who would you rather have at Yugi's side the next time dark magic threatens your grandson?" Amber eyes smiled, full of malice. "Not that it matters. I know who Yami will choose."

/Bakura, stop! You're not helping!/

_Mouto can't ignore the truth forever, hikari_ , Bakura thought harshly. _The pharaoh needs to take his allies where he can find them. Ellison will_ never _be his ally... and a Guard's Guide will follow where he leads, even into the Serpent's fangs. Believe me, I know._

/Just... let me handle this? Please?/

A dark shrug. _Waste both our time, then. They won't listen._

Ryou stepped back from a white-faced anthropologist, ducking his head. "Ano... I am sorry about that. My other's rather set in some of his opinions." He turned a pleading chocolate gaze on Solomon. "But they're not hurting anyone. Kaiba's actually beginning to be civil to the rest of us. And you should see Mokuba, he's so happy that his brother's finally starting to make friends."

"His _brother_ will chew Yugi up and spit out the pieces," Jim bit out. "I know his type. Doesn't matter what he says. Doesn't matter what he wants to do. He'll use people until he uses them up. He won't even know he's doing it. And if you weren't just as broken as that poor little kid in there, you'd know it too."

/Broken? _My_ host?/ Bakura growled. /Why, that ignorant, prejudiced, modern excuse for a medjai-/

_Oh yes_ , Ryou thought, grasping his Ring in a sudden red rage. He felt his yami move into muscle and bone, bringing the memory of pain and magic in his wake, and welcomed the darkness in. _Oh yes, that is it. That is absolutely, utterly_ it.

"Hold!"

Gold glimmered about the detective, freezing him in place. "Jim!" Blair grabbed for his partner, hissed as the Ring's magic snapped sparks at his hands. Pressed his hands grimly in, golden threads slowly unraveling as he touched them.

"Bakura! Let go!" Solomon said firmly.

Bakura laughed, a sound of shadows and smoke. "Would you ever believe I'm not holding him?"

_You're... not?_ Ryou felt the breath in his lungs, the hard beat of his heart, the tug of the Ring's magic on his and Bakura's strength alike. _I'm not in my soul room._

/No, little one. You're with me. We both want the same thing. For once./

...Oh. My. _It feels... nice_. Oh, so much more than nice. Bakura's fierceness wove into him like the golden light of his Ring, like warm ashes and starlight and a touch of honey on the tongue. He wanted to cling and drink it in and never, never let go.

/...Hmm./ Bakura shook himself, scowled mentally. /Don't get used to it./ "I'll say this once, Detective, so unplug your ears and pay attention the first time. Your city's a vicious place for those with magic in their souls. Kaiba needs someone to ground him. Yugi's our best option, unless you want a sorcerer wandering your precious territory with the mystical equivalent of a hangover. And Yami can look after himself." The tomb robber snorted. "Leave what you obviously don't understand alone, or I'll drop a pair of Bite Shoes on you."

"Fiends?" Blair asked in an undertone, breaking enough gold to drag his swearing partner clear.

"Bakura's deck is full of them," Solomon confirmed.

"You," Ellison gasped, shaking out a magic-numbed hand. "You don't need the cards to do magic."

"Nor does your partner." Bakura's lips curled as he stalked toward the wonders of hot running water. "Don't act so surprised, Detective. It runs in his family."

_Maybe we should_ -

/Apologize? Again? For the truth? I don't _think_ so, hikari./ Bakura let warm water run over his hand, smirk softened into a purr at the steamy heat. Present-day humans had a _few_ good ideas.

A point, Ryou admitted to himself. Besides, any pair stubborn enough to break a Millennium Item's hold would take hours to convince. And Kaiba and Yugi weren't the only ones who needed sleep.

/Sooner or later our snake-loving Duelist will strike again,/ Bakura nodded. /And we'll be ready./

* * *

  
_Oh-dark-hundred_. Nurse Agnes Houlihan stretched discreetly, ghosting near a dimly lit doorway down the hall. _And she's still here_.

From the soft sound of breathing inside the room, Mrs. Johnston might well have fallen asleep by her daughter's side. That was one good effect Sandburg and Ellison had had on Cascade General, as far as Agnes was concerned; family no longer had to fight as hard for "unreasonable" visiting hours, especially when patients seemed to be suffering from inexplicable illness.

Corinna's coma wasn't exactly inexplicable, Agnes thought, peeking through the doorway at the fourteen-year-old's still form. Burns, a few broken bones, concussion, the brunette's injuries alone might have caused any mind to retreat. Given that and the stress from her father's recent death - anyone might have abandoned the world for a while.

_Right. And you still believe in the tooth fairy, don't you?_

Corinna had been on the edge of a Major Crimes homicide even before she'd been caught in the latest chapter of the urban legend that was Jim and Blair's lives. By her mother's accounts, she was a scrappy little girl, not willing to crawl into a corner and hide no matter how tough things got. And her injuries weren't that bad; certainly not enough to account for that sudden, frightening turn to the worse she'd had yesterday afternoon, not long before her mother had shown up. Something about this coma just wasn't _right_.

_I should check back in an hour or so_ , Agnes thought, leaning on the doorway, watching the mother's drawn face as she slept in her chair. _See if Jenna's willing to go home for a few hours, get some fresh clothes, a shower-_

The cold metal of a gun barrel jabbed into her neck, and a gloved hand covered her mouth. "Don't move."

_Move!_ Agnes tried to will herself, as her captor's partner entered the room with a silenced gun. _Call button! Hit it, front desk knows this is a homicide-related case_ -

But cruel fingers bit into her lips, his wrapping arm restraining her struggle. A hot breath seared her ear. "Keep this up, and I'll have some _fun_ first."

Agnes bit back nausea, trying to stamp his instep as the man with the silencer drew a steady bead on Jenna. No good; stiff leather took her blow without flinching, soles squeaking like a shy mouse as he steadied himself on hospital linoleum. Across the room she caught the flashing numbers of a monitor clock. _4:43. 4:43. 4:43..._.

A gloved finger hooked the trigger, began to press down.

_Look out!_ she tried to scream. "Mmph!"

Teeth scraped her earlobe. "Shut up!"

_4:44._

Air shimmered between the gunman and his target.

_What the_....

Shadows coalesced into the ribbed pink of a living brain, rubbery hands that reached and _seized_ -

The executioner's eyes went blank. Gun up and ready, he turned.

"Bri?" Her captor's voice turned puzzled. "What the hell are you-"

_Thwock! Thwock!_

And Agnes scrambled clear of a bleeding, choking body, and screamed. _"Security!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: yadonushi - "host", "landlord".


	6. Chapter 6

_Rrring. Rrring. Rrring._

"Ow," Blair muttered, fumbling for his phone in the dark with bandaged hands. It wasn't too bad, Jim's aloe had soothed most of the burn, but the little red spots _stung_. "Ow, ow, ow...."

And to add insult to injury, a damp-haired Ryou Bakura had promptly curled up in his sleeping bag and dropped off, boneless and silent as a snoozing snow leopard. As if he weren't at all worried about potential retribution.

_Let's see. Dragon on the chair, Yugi and Kaiba in the next room, and Bakura's got his deck under his hand_ , Blair toted up blearily. _Unless Jim pulls out a grenade launcher from somewhere, I think we're outgunned._ "Sandburg," he mumbled.

"Blair? Everybody still there?"

Rafe. An all too awake Rafe, at that. "Yeah," Blair muttered, switching on the small flashlight attached to his key-chain to check the room. Jerked it down as Jim winced. "Sorry."

"Anything weird happen around 4:40?"

Blair blinked sleep-sand out of his eyes. Glanced at the shadowy form of his partner. Caught the sentinel's shake of head. "Ah... no. Why?" _And why am I sure I don't want to know?_

"Get them over here. Fast. Homicide doesn't know what to do with this, Simon's next on my call list, and as soon as the administrator works up enough nerve to get the mayor on the line, we're going to be buried in enough red tape to sink a cruise liner."

"Okay..." Blair said reluctantly, watching white scales rise and fall to silent breaths. _Oh boy. How the hell are we going to get these kids up without losing a hand?_ "Here where?"

* * *

  
"Brain Control," Solomon said firmly, wrapping a sympathetic hand over Nurse Houlihan's as they sat in visitor's chairs near the nurses' desk. "That's undoubtedly what you saw."

"Brain Control?" Rafe asked, eyes wide. Down the hall Henri and Blair were picking up the pieces with Homicide; Brian Pelletier had been hauled off screaming his innocence, and as of half an hour ago, the doctors were giving Joseph Black a fifty-fifty chance of making it off the table. "You can control someone's mind?"

Standing in the background, Jim sipped Cascade General's cafeteria coffee, wincing. Now Blair's insistence he carry his own ceramic mug for coffee made sense. The only contaminants in his cup were those in the hospital water, rather than a deadening aftertaste of Styrofoam. As it was, he'd pay for the caffeine overload later. Right now they all needed to be awake.

"I can't, no," the elderly shop-owner corrected. "And a Duelist couldn't for long. It's a magic card that takes control of one of your opponent's monsters. But only for one turn."

_But Brian Pelletier wasn't one of their monsters,_ Jim almost said, listening down the hall where a bunch of groggy Duelists were currently mauling an early breakfast. _He worked for-_

And closed his mouth, letting the pieces he thought he knew fall into a new shape.

_Damn_.

Set it aside, as Rafe took Houlihan aside to walk through her statement one more time. Let the new theory sit and solidify, while he picked up a few other pieces. "Not sure I said thank you for getting them up, Solomon," Jim said. "That took guts." The older man had knocked firmly on the bedroom door, calling persistently until Yugi blearily opened it. _Just like Blair. Definitely not a morning person,_ the sentinel thought, amused.

And then not, remembering how he'd heard Kaiba slither out of the sheets minutes before Yugi roused.

A glint of metal caught his eye down the hall. The CEO's wrists were armored once more, all trace of scars hidden as his dark heart.

_Damn you, Seto Kaiba. Why the hell did you have to cross paths with an innocent like Yugi?_

"Nonsense." Solomon chuckled softly, evidently unaware of his thoughts. "I should be thanking you for your caution. It simply hadn't occurred to me that we might find trouble again so early." A gray brow arched, and he sat up a hair straighter. "Though I'd argue that we didn't find this one."

"I'd have to agree with you, sir," Jim admitted.

"Really?" Solomon blinked, surprised.

"I wish I didn't." And here came his partner, with the piece that would either make or break the puzzle. "Blair?"

"You're not going to believe this." Blair practically bounced, now that he was away from the scent of spilled blood and terror. "Brian Pelletier and Joseph Black both worked for-"

"Questscape security," Jim finished.

His guide's good humor dimmed a shade. "What have I told you about listening in without someone around to shake you out of a zone?"

"I didn't." Jim shrugged. "That part of the park was a Questscape beautification project. Ship's a silent asset. Dan's body was another guy from security. And Mrs. Johnston's one of our witnesses. Questscape's the only thing all these... incidents have in common." He growled. "Hell if I know why."

Blair stepped into his personal space, angled a glance toward the Duelists. "Do they have any ideas?"

"Only that this is about revenge." Solomon frowned, drumming fingers on his knee in a pattern so familiar Jim had to crosscheck his ears with his eyes to make sure exactly where his guide was. "It usually is. Unless you've practiced a great deal, it takes strong emotions to summon Monsters. Love, or fear... or hate."

"Explains Kaiba's dragons," Jim muttered, relaxing into his guide's presence. Absently he let his senses roam, checking for anything out of place, anything they might have missed-

Megan's voice, sudden and unexpected as a gunshot. _"Assault in progress - stone the crows, those bones are_ moving! _Get us some help, here! God-"_

"Jim! Blair!" Henri skidded around the corner, shouts and gunshots still spilling from the phone in his hand. "The Natural History Museum-"

A ghostly elephant's trumpet wailed from the speaker, and the line went dead.

* * *

  
"Connor!"

"What!" the Aussie snapped, shooting down a persistent saber-tooth skeleton. _There goes another bloody million-plus in damages... Simon's going to have our guts for garters._

"Next time you get a brainstorm," Joel discharged three rounds through a tarred hyena's skull, dropping the undead beast in a clatter of bones on his feet, "Leave me home!"

"Only if I can stay too, mate!" And it'd seemed like such a _good_ idea. As head of the accounting division, Preston Montgomery was the most likely person to know where Questscape's purloined funds had gone. Which meant he needed somewhere to stash those funds, at least quasi-legitimately, in such a manner that the books would look balanced. And what better way to hide them than in a donation to one of the company's favorite charities, the Natural History Museum?

So when one of Joel's friends on the staff - Sayh Golden, lovely young woman with streaked-red dreadlocks and a wicked sense of humor - called in with a tip on a _very_ early-morning visit to the curator by Montgomery, his lawyer, and a few heavies, she and Joel had come running. Sayh had let them in, pointed them toward the Pleistocene exhibit, and hurried off to her own job while the detectives ensconced themselves near the Stone Age dioramas.

And sure enough the smarmy crew had come by, the curator making all the right appreciative noises for the donation while the lawyer nit-picked, the pair of heavies looked vicious, and Montgomery looked lustfully over tarred bones.

Megan had caught Joel's triumphant grin as he switched on his tape recorder to catch every legalistic phrase. In and of itself the recording might not do much, but combine it with the paperwork they'd be able to seize based on probable cause, and they'd have Montgomery wrapped in money trails with a murder as a pretty little bow on top. She'd slipped Joel a flirtatious wink back, basking in the warm glow of knowing, _knowing_ she had her prey in sight-

And the scent of ozone had tickled her nose, and a gunman shrieked as a skeletal mammoth trampled him underfoot.

_That's the last time I turn my back on anything with this many teeth_ , Megan vowed now, back to back with Joel as more skeletons closed in. The curator was hiding behind a case of stone axes, the last heavy had just gone down under a pack of skeletal jackals, Montgomery was shrieking in the background as he fended off a reconstructed condor with his briefcase, and the lawyer was slowly choking in an impossible bony trunk. _Backed into a corner, running low on rounds..._

_"Stop!"_

* * *

  
_Oh man, somebody help me_ , Blair thought, sweating as he faced down bones and Shadow magic. Glowing points of crimson stared at him from the mammoth's eye-sockets, cold and malevolent as a yawning grave. _I don't have a clue what I'm doing._

Behind him he heard the safety click off Jim's gun, a whispered "Mammoth Graveyard" from Solomon, a faint screech of tires outside that had to be Henri and Rafe, finally here after having made a semi-sane way through Cascade traffic. Before him the lawyer was futilely prying at the bones around his neck, wheezing. In the corner Joel and Megan were reserving what had to be their last rounds, waiting for their saber-toothed assailants to lunge.

"Gun," Jim breathed in his ear.

"No. Look." Blair swallowed dryly, as shadows crept from the saber-tooth Megan had shot, swirling into the eye-sockets of a mounted cave bear. The undead beast shook itself aware, claws clicking out of bone as it took one long stride toward Joel-

"Stop!"

The beast halted. Turned toward him. Snarled, fangs gaping impossibly wide.

_Man, this is one time I wish Jim had an SUV_ , Blair thought fleetingly, feeling a noted absence of angry Duelists behind him. His sentinel's trusty pickup only seated three, and in Jim's haste to assist a fellow officer they'd maybe been a little too quick to take Yugi's word that the card-carrying bunch would be right behind them. _We just need a look at Mrs. Johnston_ , Yugi had reassured him as the three had dashed into the elevator. _Don't worry, we'll find our own way there._

_I should've known better_ , Blair knew, swaying. _He is my nephew, he knows how to dance around the truth. He saw_ something _he didn't want us to know about - and he's definitely not here._ And the world was grayed somehow; scents faded, sounds thin, shadows thick and violet and _listening_.... "Help."

"On it." Jim was a bright blaze of color beside him, ghostly panther snarling at his side.

"No. No shooting." One gunshot, and the fragile truce would break.

But every moment holding it hurt, as if the seconds slashed his skin with knives of ice. A minute more, and he'd slip. And Megan and Joel would die.

Solomon's hand was solid warmth on his back, trickling in a burst of strength. "Arrest him."

"What?"

"This is a Duel, Blair." Solomon's voice was cool and measured, almost as level as Yami's. "You're a Guide, not a Duelist. You can't _command_ creatures of the Shadow Realm. But they will listen to you. And without an enemy, they won't attack." Hard violet was fixed on the choking lawyer. "Arrest him. Take him off the board."

"Blair?" Jim's gaze touched his, asking, trusting.

_I can't... hold this much longer._ "Do it."

The detective's grin turned feral. "You have the right to remain silent...."

And the sucking chill - vanished.

Blair dropped to one knee, sucking in oxygen as Jim disentangled the whimpering attorney from a lax undead trunk. Cuffs clicked home, metal counterpoint to the wary footfalls of two detectives making their way past waiting skeletons. _God. I hurt. I hurt everywhere._

"Holy-" Safeties clicked as Rafe and Henri dashed into the room.

"Hold it!" Jim's tone matched his warning hand. "Easy, guys. Blair talked them down. Don't start anything."

"Blair? Talked...." Henri shook his head, as if to dislodge the notion. Rafe stared beside him, reluctantly pointing his weapon toward the polished floor. "Why do we always get the weird ones?"

"Major Crimes, H," Jim smirked. "You want normal, transfer to Homicide."

"Sandy?" Megan's hands rubbed Blair's shoulders, warm as a bonfire. "Lord, you're like ice!"

"Magic takes energy." Solomon held up his other side, keeping watch as undead creatures clicked back toward their dioramas. "Keep your guard up. This isn't over."

"They stopped fighting, we got the bad guy," Joel argued. "What else is there?"

Jim's head came up; he dropped the lawyer in a sniveling heap. Sniffed, and snarled. "That."

Shadows were draining from the skeletal beasts, crimson light winking out of empty skulls. One by one, the undead collapsed in a cloud of dust and violet.

"Um... that would be a good thing, right?" Blair asked, getting to his feet as he eyed the gathering swirl of shadows. _Please tell me I'm right? Please?_

"No." Solomon's voice was the death of hope. "They're being sacrificed."

An ogre in a blue chef's outfit appeared, sizzling shadows in his skillet as rough laughter filled the room. He flourished a spatula with a fanged smile, flipping a shadowy patty that grew and floated and gathered lettuce, tomatoes, and a bloody bun about itself.

"Hamburger Recipe," Solomon groaned. "Used to summon...."

The ogre vanished with a tip of his puffy hat. The blood-smeared bun sprouted fangs, and the snarling creation bounced out the door.

"Hungry Burger." Solomon buried his face in his hand. "Oh, dear."

As one, the group rushed to the museum entrance, just in time to see a man-sized, toothy burger bouncing through three lanes of traffic.

"Montgomery," Megan snapped her fingers. "Of course!" She hesitated. "But why?"

"Never mind why!" Jim burst out. "A man-eating _hamburger?_ What kind of a sick game is this?" He glared at Solomon. "And where the hell is your grandson?"

Shrugging, the older man pointed toward Cascade General.

And lightning split the sky.

* * *

  
"Just in case you were wondering, Mr. Kaiba, this is against hospital policy!" Nurse Houlihan shouted over the rising wind.

Seto nodded once, eyes on Mokuba as his brother clung to Jenna Johnston. The brunette herself was gripping her daughter's gurney with white knuckles, helping Houlihan hold it in place on the hospital rooftop as Bakura and Mai lashed it down with the tomb robber's rope. Yugi finished a slow circle around Corinna's limp form as Mai tied the last knot, stepped back with a look of determination. "You're right!" he called, words slicing the gale with shadow's edge. "Her ka's not here!"

Kaiba's lips thinned. He didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to think that he could look at an unconscious girl and see nothing but a shell of a soul, a wailing half-self lost and wandering in the shadows.

But _want_ had nothing to do with it. The girl was a Duelist. Magic had frayed and snapped around her, casting her soul into the Shadow Realm, allowing her hate to slip between the cracks of _here_ and _elsewhere_.

And she knew the name of her enemy.

Sea-blue eyes narrowed against the wind. "We should let her kill him."

"Nii-sama!"

"Kaiba, come on," Mai started.

"No." Jenna paled, shrinking from the darkness in his gaze. "Not my daughter!"

"She's defending you, Johnston," Kaiba said coldly. "Protecting you from the enemy that took her father, and tried to take her; an enemy that sees you as a clear and present danger. As long as he's alive, he won't stop trying to kill you both."

Coiling up his rope, Bakura snorted. "For once, the sorcerer speaks sense."

"No!" Jenna stood between them and the windswept gurney, pale and shaking. "My daughter's not a killer!"

"No? Wait a few minutes." Kaiba crossed his arms. "It'll be a quicker death than the one he meant for you."

"God, _no_ -"

"Seto." Yugi's quiet voice cut across Jenna's tears. "It doesn't have to be this way."

Kaiba met warm amethyst, trying not to flinch. _You know I'm right, Yami. You know it. Even if your lighter half won't see it._ "You know what she is. What we are!"

"I know what we are," Yugi admitted. "And I know what we've done. When we didn't know what we were doing. And when we _did_."

"Clue me in?" Mai yelled at Bakura.

"Shadow Games, woman!" The tomb robber called back. "You of all humans should know their cost!"

_"Shimatta...."_

"But Corinna doesn't know what she's doing, Seto!" Crimson was creeping into amethyst, Shadows dancing around them both. "You know what it's like to be broken. You know it! And maybe we can't fix you, and maybe we can't fix me - but we can stop her, Seto! Here. Now!" Yugi held out beseeching hands. "Please, Seto."

_No_.

"Help me stop her."

_I can't_....

"I can't do this alone."

_I'm a killer. We both know it. I don't deserve to save a life_ -

"Nii-sama?" Gray-blue eyes pleaded with him, loyal to the last. Trusting, as Mokuba had always trusted his big brother, all too aware of the darkness in his soul.

_...I'm going to regret this._ "I suppose you have a plan," Kaiba bit out.

Yami inclined his head. "We're going to find her."

"In the Shadow Realm." Wonderful.

"Who better?" A grim smile danced over the ancient spirit's features. "But hate and Shadows are laced about her spirit; I doubt she'll come quietly." His crimson gaze swept the three Duelists. "You'll remain here, and keep her Monsters occupied."

"Think again, pharaoh," Bakura sneered. "Risk my neck, for a slip of a girl?"

"A girl as innocent as your host," Yami said evenly. "And hers is not the only life that hangs in the balance."

The thief snorted. "Oh, _yours_. As if your life meant more to me than chaff scattered in the wind!"

"No." Mai stepped forward, face pale. "Mine." She caught Bakura's gaze, held it. "I'm going to do this, Ryou."

"Valentine," Bakura warned, hand straying near his Ring. "You've barely summoned. You've less of a grasp on magic than Wheeler. Don't be a fool!"

"I know." Mai looked at Corinna. "But she's just a girl. I have to help, Ryou. I have to."

"Then it's decided." Yami lifted a hand, and violet mist swirled up.

"Holy-" Houlihan stumbled back from the lightning-struck dome where three people and a gurney had stood. Ropes parted with a snap, severed ends curling away, trailing smoke and shadows.

"Get behind me, woman!" Bakura glared as Mai dealt herself a hand, snatching his deck out with a hiss. "That snake-spawned _idiot_ of a pharaoh-! Ruins my best rope, makes me play _hero_... I swear, I'm going to kill him!"

_Mokuba. He took_ Mokuba _into the Shadow Realm!_ "When he gets out," Kaiba said dryly, sliding cards into his hand, "Get in line."

* * *

  
"We're chasing a hamburger with teeth," Joel pointed out as Megan tore through traffic with all a mad Aussie's disregard for speed limits, sanity, and the laws of physics. And for all that, she drove saner than the blue and white pickup ahead of them. "Just so you know."

Megan tried not to wince. She'd heard that detached note in her partner's voice in survivors of train derailments; the brain had hit its limit of terror, and decided everything past that was just a bad dream. "I know, Joel."

"This is all Jim's fault."

Megan arched a red brow, dodging a silver-trimmed black Mercedes that didn't quite comprehend that flashing lights meant _they_ had to move, too. "Really."

"I don't know how," Joel admitted, casually tightening his seatbelt. "But it is."

"Ah," Megan said noncommittally. _Time for a bit of quiet with the shrink for you, laddy-buck._ "Be a love and get the radio, hmm?"

She dove back into playing 3-D bumper cars as Joel talked with Dispatch, catching fragments of roadblock, spike strips, and a mad yell that had to be Simon. _We should ask Rhonda if she's come up with a way to fix the coffee machine yet_ , Megan thought absently. _Relying on the beverage cart is not helping his temper._

"Okay." Joel clicked the radio off, almost shrugging. "If we keep going this way, they've got spike strips set up a half-mile down."

Under a kilometer and closing. Good.

"So." Joel's voice was deceptively calm. "I get that you think when we stop Preston, it'll stop and go after him. What I don't get is, what the _hell_ do we do when we catch it? Hit it with special sauce?"

Ah. There was sanity left beside her. Good. "I rather thought we'd turn Jim loose on it," Megan shrugged. "He's always sneaking out of formal dinners to visit Wonderburger anyway. This should be the chance of a lifetime."

"Connor?"

"Hmm?" There were the blue-and-gray Cascade patrol cars, lights flashing warning ahead as Montgomery's SUV hit the spike strips and screeched. More lights blazed crimson as Jim jammed on the brakes, granting just enough time for black-and-yellow strips to be yanked back before he tore through after the limping, burger-pursued SUV.

"You're nuts!"

Megan flashed teeth in a wicked grin as blown tires finally lurched to a smoking stop. "Decent of you to notice."

* * *

  
Violet mist rolled in. Shadows grew and quivered, waking the ghosts of bloodstains across the concrete rooftop. A whispery beat filled the air; like ambulance helicopter rotors on approach, like a fading heart struggling to survive.

Mokuba Kaiba looked around, and shivered. _The Shadow Realm._ "Nii-sama's going to kill you."

"He'll try," Yami nodded, frank and accepting. "But I need your help, Mokuba."

The twelve-year-old blinked. "Me? Why?"

_"Where the hell are we?"_ Mrs. Johnston's hands clenched on the gurney, eyes wide and staring as a stallion about to bolt.

"That's why," Yami said in an undertone. Moving around Corinna's still form, he laid a comforting hand over Jenna's. "Where doesn't matter. We're following the track of your daughter's spirit. You must stay calm, and stay with us. We have little time." He raised a hand, warding off dawning questions. "Not for her sake, but yours."

"He's right." Mokuba moved in to hug Jenna's side, already feeling the first breath of chill across her skin. Chill that wasn't touching him; not yet. _But I'm going to be a Duelist. Like nii-sama._ "I've been here before. It sucks the energy right out of you. Yami's going to keep us safe, but we've got to hurry."

"Call your daughter," Yami urged. The spirit stepped back, Puzzle glowing gold, ruby eyes on the watching shadows. "Tell her she's safe. Bid her return. You're her mother. Blood binds you. Call her."

Jenna's fingers wove into Mokuba's. "Corinna!"

_'Rinna... rinna..._ Echoes rolled through the mists, waking whispers, growls, screams. Paired glows shimmered into being in the shadows, crimson and jade and white-gold as fire....

And a slash of steel, as three blades aimed for their hearts.

"I summon the Dark Magician, equipped with the Sword of Deep-Seated!"

Shadows swirled at Yami's call; an emerald staff shimmered, gained an amethyst blade to become a lance that met metal in three swift parries. The Dark Magician warded them in a flow of violet robes and armor, driving the blade-tailed warrior back, sea-green eyes narrowed as the sword-bearing half-snake tried to wriggle nearer.

"Armaill. Oh god," Jenna whispered.

"Don't give up!" Mokuba urged. Yami's features might have been graven from stone as he drew another card to his hand, all the spirit's concentration focused on maintaining his Monster as it stood between them and their armored enemy. Only stone didn't sweat. "Please!"

"Don't-" Jenna's face was white and pinched as she laughed, hysterical. "You think I don't know what's going on here? Electric Snake? Armaill? Brain Control? That's my daughter's deck! My _daughter's_ doing this! She did it to that man, she did it to Questscape...."

"She's scared!" Mokuba defended the unconscious girl. _Like nii-sama is, only he never lets people see it._ "Keep trying!"

"God, kid, don't you get it?" Tears were streaking what was left of Jenna's mascara, tracking darkness down her cheeks. "My daughter's trying to kill us!"

"I know." _I know what people do when they're scared. When they think there's no way out. When they hurt..._ "Please. Please, try!"

"Cory!" Jenna called to the shadows. "Cory, baby, come home...."

* * *

  
"Help! Somebody help me!"

Joel shook his head, gun drawn as he watched the Burger demolish Montgomery's SUV one shred of metal at a time. "I've heard of getting more iron in your diet, but this is ridiculous."

_Not good_ , Jim thought, approaching the rattling SUV with Blair and Solomon. He didn't think the Burger had spotted them - but then, if Solomon was right, the Burger wasn't zeroing in on anything as physical as sight. "Megan?" he asked, carefully casual.

The redhead's glance slid to her partner, and she made a circling motion with one forefinger near her temple.

_Terrific._ Jim looked over his shoulder at four bug-eyed uniforms, waved them back with a grim shake of head. Ordinarily he'd want the help, but what the hell were regular cops supposed to do against magic?

Rafe's sleek sports car braked hard at the side of the road; Jim blew out a breath of relief as the two Major Crimes detectives scrambled out the passenger-side door to avoid still-passing traffic. _Just hope they're holding up a little better than Joel-_

_Screech!_ The SUV's door tore loose in a scream of tortured metal; Montgomery scrambled into the back, whimpering as the Burger tried to ram itself through the doorway.

"And I thought wide patties were a bad thing," Blair whistled.

"Not this time," Jim agreed. "Take it down!"

_Lead seasoning_ , the sentinel thought wryly, aiming for the center of mass. The Burger writhed under their hits, bits of bread, tomato and meat flung across the highway. _Maybe if we punch enough holes in it-_

Sunlight faded, turned cool and chill as a gibbous moon. Leather boomed in the air behind them, like sails catching the wind. A uniform shrieked-

_Oh. My. God._

A horde of black imps with scythes had seized Rafe, Brown, and the uniformed officers, vanishing into violet smoke.

"Stop shooting!" Solomon pulled out a phone with frantic haste. "That's Gravekeeper's Servant!"

Jim saw red. Fingers clenched on his sidearm's grip; he barely kept himself from pulling the trigger. "And what the hell is _that?_ "

"Continuous magic card," Solomon said hastily, punching in numbers. "Every time one of us attacks, a card from the top of our decks is sent to the Graveyard."

Jim restrained the urge to shake the man. His partner was already reaching for elderly shoulders, only held back by Megan's swift grip. "They're not cards!" Blair growled.

"They were opposing creatures, not on the field, not in defense mode. Allies you could have called in later. Evidently that was close enough." Solomon listened to the rings, fingers drumming on his jacket. "I just hope they can keep their heads long enough to stay alive to be rescued..."

_Click._ "The world had better be coming to an end, or you're fired!"

Kaiba. And from the shouts, snarls, and shrieks in the background, the CEO was having just as interesting a time as they were.

* * *

  
"Harpy Lady, attack her Beaked Snake!" The crimson-haired harpy shredded scales with a happy shriek. Mai winced as Corinna's Servant snatched the top card off her deck. "Damn! So much for Mirror Wall."

"Portrait's Secret-" A Worm Drake wrapped itself around the Portrait's painted claws, tearing Bakura's defenses to kindling. The Ring's spirit swore.

"Ryu-Kishin, strike!" Backed against the globe of darkness by two Sinister Serpents, Kaiba tried to balance a phone in one hand and cards in the other. Strategy, he needed a strategy; he'd almost had it, before the phone tore him from the pure concentration that was the Heart of the Cards. _At least it's only Serpents._ The gargoyle could take them both with one blow-

And a disembodied viper's head struck Ryu-Kishin's throat, fangs driving black poison into his monster's veins. _Snake Fang!_

Striking as one, the Sinister Serpents tore his gargoyle to shreds of smoke.

Kaiba stifled a wince, feeling as if their fangs had slashed his own limbs. _So. The girl can play Traps._

"Where's Yugi?" Solomon's shout came over the phone.

"Trying to get himself killed before our rematch!" The serpents were turning flickering tongues toward him, now, and - dissipating?

_Sacrificed_ , the Duelist knew, seeing shadows swirl into one violet pool of magic. _Strike now, before it can come through-_

And fiery lava roared around him, searing at his spirit.

_Final Flame._ Kaiba staggered as the fires vanished, sucking in air seared desert dry. _The girl's playing for keeps..._

"What's going on?" Ellison demanded. "We've lost people over here! Solomon says they got yanked into the Shadow Realm-"

Violet erupted in light, a glitter of gold and diamond-blue and crystalline wings. A dragon shaped from the purest of crystals soared free, white fire building in its jaws.

"Hyozanryu," Kaiba breathed.

"What-"

A shower of sparkles wrapped him; blinding, brief torment. _Sparks_ , the Duelist recognized through the breath-stealing assault. _Her mother should have told us she likes direct attacks on her opponent's life points..._

And something in him snapped.

"Kaiba! Kaiba, talk-"

Kaiba? Who in the netherworld was Kaiba?

Seto dropped the squawking object in his coat pocket, absently wondering why he'd held it in the first place. This was a Duel. Nothing - _nothing_ , not even Pharaoh's own words - was more important than a Duel.

And a dragon was waiting for him.

He blinked at the cards in his hand. Dyed papyrus, not graven stone?

But never mind, never mind; the magic in them was deep and rich as any he'd called out of enchanted carvings. Fingers pulled a last card from his deck, and he laughed at his hand. Mystic Probe, Shadow Spell, and... _Old friends. My own._

*We are here!*

Somewhere in the distance, part of him tried to believe this was impossible. In the game, a Blue Eyes was a level 8 monster. In the game, he'd need to sacrifice two other monsters to call even one out.

This wasn't a game.

Seto sank his mind into the spirit of lightning-split sky, light made flesh and scales and silver-white wings. Reached inside himself, calling on all his rage and love and fierce joy in power.

"Blue Eyes White Dragons, arise!"

* * *

  
"Seto!" Mokuba's hand clenched near his locket. "We've got to help him!"

/Whoa./ Yugi whistled in his soul room, feeling the fire that had scorched down the Puzzle's link to Kaiba, the irresistible call now vibrating through the Shadow Realm. /Um... he knows we're trying _not_ to bring down her life points, right?/

_He knows, aibou_ , Yami nodded, feeling Yugi fit together strategies as he bent his concentration toward supporting the Dark Magician. Steel rang on amethyst and emerald, chiming around Jenna's mumbled entreaties to her daughter's wandering soul. _But I suspect he's not quite himself at the moment._

His other winced. /Then we've got to move fast./

Yami felt his aibou's plan form in his own thoughts, and grinned darkly. _Yes. That will do, indeed._ "Block Attack!"

Armaill screeched as magic dragged him into defense mode, swords crossed before his armored chest.

"Dark Magician, attack with dark magic!"

The Magician flung out a hand, shattering his opponent in a burst of violet-black flame.

"Mokuba." Yami drew in a breath of shadows, watching for signs of a new summoning as the Magician snapped his lance up to guard. "You have your deck. Draw."

Gray-blue eyes looked up at him, wide and wary. "I can't-"

"You can touch their Heart," Yami said gravely. He set his hand on the child's shoulder. "As for the power... that we will lend you. If you are willing."

Mokuba nodded. "What do I do?"

_Brave little one._ Yami wrapped his own magic around Mokuba's fledgling strength, shadowed titanium about new steel. "Draw. And call."

Eyes closed, Mokuba pulled a card free. "Dreamsprite!"

Silver-green shadows shimmered into an autumn-winged azure fairy, red bubbles of forest magic floating between her slender hands. "Wisely drawn," Yami murmured. "Lady of forests, hear me!"

Red wings spread as the plant fairy fluttered to Mokuba's side, head cocked in curiosity.

"Child of dreams, help your caller search for one lost in nightmare here," Yami said courteously. "Guard him well, as only you can. Those who attack you, direct to us."

The Dreamsprite's autumn-red head nodded. She smiled at her caller, blowing a bubble of raspberry-red magic to float around his hair.

Mokuba was stiff against Yami, face pale. "But that means, if Cory's Monsters go after me-"

"Their attacks will strike us, instead." Yami nodded. "We can weather it better than you, little dragon. You know that." Smiling, he ruffled dark hair. "Go on, Mokie. Find our lost Duelist. Lure her home."

Taking Dreamsprite's small hand, Mokuba took a shaky step away. And jerked to a halt. "Why'd you call me Mokie?"

"Er..." Why had such an unlikely nickname sprung to mind? Little dragon, yes, certainly. But Mokie?

And why did it feel so much like Yugi?

/Oops./ Yugi's laughter echoed down their bond, along with wry thoughts of - payback? What in the worlds? /I guess the leak goes _both_ ways./

Leak? What did he - oh, Ra. "Yugi," he groaned.

/Remember that the next time you start swearing in Egyptian!/

Mokuba giggled. "You picked that up from Seto!"

Yami opened his mouth to protest, let it close again as Mokuba skipped off in the sprite's wake. _Now why did that make him happy, aibou? He knows how much his brother values his privacy of mind..._

/And now he also knows Seto still _thinks_ of him as Mokie, even if he doesn't say it,/ Yugi pointed out. /Mokuba's always believed in Seto. He's always had faith that somewhere under all that dark and cold, the big brother who took care of him in the orphanage was still there. No matter _what_ Gozaburo did to destroy him./

_And I once thought the boy blind._ Yami smiled reluctantly, raising his hands as the shadows stirred once more. _Perhaps he sees more truly than any of us._

* * *

  
"Nephthys, lady of shrouds, ward us from the chaos you wedded," Bakura breathed as white scales filled the air. Mai was backed against him, breathing hard, vest and gloves dotted with dark holes from the Sparks attacks that had hit them both. Hyozanryu wheeled overhead, glittering like sun-struck snow as it dodged three angry Blue Eyes Whites.

/Which just leaves a Worm Drake,/ Ryou pointed out, sweating in his soul room. /And we can't summon yet./

No matter. Bakura regarded the beast's dripping jaws with contempt. Once Mai switched her Harpy to defense, the Drake would destroy itself in a single attack. "Now, Valentine!"

Harpy Lady hovered above, unmoving as her mistress.

Jaws dripping, the Worm Drake lunged-

"Headless Knight, defend!" Scales shattered on gilt-edged steel; Bakura seized his partner's shoulder, calling magic out of his Ring to bolster her faltering strength. "Stay awake, woman!"

Mai forced her head up, eyes hard. "Elegant Egotist!" Her Harpy Lady blurred into the three Sisters; crimson hair splitting to orange, violet, and midnight blue. "I..."

"Sleep and die, Valentine!" Bakura snarled, yanking them both down as white wingtips sliced air a foot over their heads.

"Mystic Probe!" Seto's voice cut the wind; a stone tablet materialized in the Servant's path, squashing the card-stealing imp temporarily flat. "Violator of _ma'at,_ prepare to perish! Seize her beast, my own!"

Lifting her head in time to see the Blue Eyes soar sunward, Mai swore. "More Egyptian, damn it... what's Kaiba saying?"

Bakura snorted. "After that many spells? I'm not certain that _is_ Kaiba right now."

"Not-?" Mai gulped. "You mean - but he knows we're trying not to hurt her!"

"Sorcerers are rather like black belts." Fangs glistened in a wry grin. "Hit them too hard, and good intentions go straight over the cataracts."

Ryou winced. /And Seth is having a _very_ bad day.../

"Horus, lend them your speed!" Emerald shadows danced around Seto, rising in jade flames as he flung a hand up to the dragon-filled heavens. "Dive, and smite it from the very sky!"

"Down!" Bakura yanked Mai roofward once more, gripping concrete as three Blue Eyes body-slammed the diamond dragon into the middle of the helicopter pad.

"Ow..." Mai groaned.

/Ow,/ Ryou agreed, feeling the bone-jarring jolt of scaled muscle all the way into his soul room. /That's _not_ Seto./

"Sometimes I hate being right." Bakura chafed warmth back into Mai's arms. "Lean on me, woman. I'm not facing that maniac of a high priest on my own-"

Concrete cracked. A Fissure split the rooftop in a cloud of choking dust, swallowing his Knight whole.

Flat on the roof, Bakura could only stare. "That girl is starting to _annoy_ me."

* * *

  
_Snap. Crunch. Snarl._

"Aieee!"

Jim growled something in Quechua under his breath; Blair would have laid odds on it being rude, crude, and physically improbable. "Okay. We can't shoot the damn thing. What else _can_ we do?"

"Attacking is only part of the game," Solomon informed them. "A Duelist can defend, set traps, activate magic..."

"Save we've no Duelist here," Megan pointed out.

"But we could set a trap," Blair said absently.

Four gazes skewered him.

"What?" the anthropologist said defensively. "Magic's magic, but a trap can be anything-"

Joel grinned. "Hell, yeah!" He slapped Jim on the shoulder. "You guys figure out how to yank Montgomery out of there. I'm going to get some stuff from the car."

"Stuff, as in?" Megan said under her breath.

Blair traded a grin with his partner. "Oh, yeah."


	7. Chapter 7

"So you know where we're going?" Mokuba said in a rush, racing after the flying sprite.

A leaf-red head nodded. Blue fingers pointed ahead, toward a glimmer of silver and mist.

_I know that mist_. "We're getting close to the Graveyard." Mokuba swallowed. "Do we have to go in there?"

"Look out!"

A chilling howl tore the air in the wake of a dark scythe, slicing braided hair as an officer ducked. Gunshots tore into the shrouded specter from her fellow officers and two wide-eyed detectives.

Necklace of cards dangling under its black hood, the Reaper of Cards only raised its scythe again, and laughed.

"Hey! Reaper!" Mokuba pulled a taunting face as the skull swiveled his way. "Bet you can't get me!"

"Mokuba!" Detective Rafe yelled as the specter sliced down.

_Why don't grownups_ ever _think I know what I'm doing?_ "Dreamsprite, defend! Redirect!"

The sprite caught the blade between two hands, wrapped in the ghost of the Dark Magician's power. The Magician's shade smirked, and slashed out.

Wailing, the Reaper shattered.

"Hold your fire!" Rafe grabbed an officer's shoulder as the bony fiend fell into dust. "Avallone! Parker! Everybody, form up!" He stared at their unlikely rescuer. "Mokuba?"

Mokuba waved as he walked into the circle of graves, Dreamsprite hovering over his shoulder. "Hi, Detective Rafe!"

"W-where - what-" Avallone stammered, dark hair falling in a ragged cascade over her shoulders as they clustered near a leaning tombstone. "Is somebody there?"

"Hell, no, nobody's here, Rafe's talking to shadows again. Let's just keep our heads and try to figure this out, okay?" Henri shivered, beckoning in the other two officers with his free hand. "Gale, Hill - everybody stay calm, all right? Sandburg saw us get taken, and you _know_ Hairboy'll come through - _holy-!_ " His gun nearly aimed at Mokuba; jerked up at the last second. "Where the hell did you come from, kid?"

"Over there," Rafe pointed. "From that light. I told you."

"Rafe." Henri gave him a skeptical, shivering glance. "What light? It's pitch dark in here!"

"Dark?" Mokuba said, puzzled. It was twilight, sure. Stars were faint and faded overhead, just as he'd expect from the fog lacing the Graveyard's stone-studded ground. But dark? "Come on. We should get out of here before another Reaper comes by."

"They keep saying it's dark." Rafe reached out toward the sprite's red hair, smiled shyly as she giggled. "I don't get it."

"Yeah?" Henri objected, hustling past the last stone markers. "Rafe, I don't know where we are or how we got here, but I know you got hit on the head. We're not glowing, we don't have any shadows sucking us dry, and-"

"C-c-cold," Parker's teeth chattered. The officer shook his head, faint sweat shining at the edge of his blond crewcut. Tried to speak-

And collapsed on his partner like a house of cards.

"He's _cold_." Avallone swallowed, checking her partner's racing pulse. "I'm cold."

"Everybody, huddle together," Henri instructed, blowing on his hands. "Brian? Rafe, no-"

"I'm fine," Rafe insisted, layering his suit jacket around Avallone's shaking shoulders.

_Yeah, but they're not_ , Mokuba knew. He could see the other cops' breath in the air, as if the temperature had dropped to winter frost in an instant. "It's the Shadow Realm. It pulls out your energy." _Unless you've got enough magic to fight it._ He touched his deck, reaching for that sense of _power_ that was Yami.

/I'm here, little dragon. Call!/

"Red Medicine!"

A crimson-filled phial shimmered out of shadow, dropped as sudden warm weight into his hands. Mokuba tipped a little down Parker's throat, handed it to Rafe as the officer started to stir. "Make sure everybody gets some."

"What is it?" Blue-gray with chill, Henri scowled in suspicion.

Mokuba crossed his arms, giving the detective one of his big brother's _looks_. "Magic."

"Magic?" Henri looked ill.

"Henri, we are standing on the edge of a graveyard, in the shadows, and _you_ are freezing. I would say now is not the time to argue with the young man." Rafe handed the phial over to Gale. "Were you snatched here too?"

"Uh-uh. We came after Corinna." Mokuba looked out into the bleak wasteland around them, frowning at a distant glimmer of moonlight on water. _That's it. That's what we're looking for._ "If we can find her, we can stop this."

"Corinna's doing this?" Henri repeated, incredulous. "Corinna Johnston? That kid's out cold!"

"Later, H," Rafe insisted, eyes tracking shadows the others obviously couldn't see. "You say you came in. Can you get us out?"

"Yugi can," Mokuba nodded. "But I haven't found Cory yet..." He looked them over, and a small fist clenched. "Dreamsprite! Take them to Yugi."

Autumn wings fluttered in protest.

"I'll be okay," Mokuba insisted. He snared Rafe's sleeve. "I saw where we were heading. I'll stay with Detective Rafe. I'll be fine."

The sprite sighed, but fluttered down to circle Henri's head. Settled on his shoulder, and pointed.

"You'd better hurry," Mokuba said matter-of-factly. "Yugi's holding the door open and he could really use some help."

Henri took point as Hall wedged himself under Parker's shoulder. "You sure about this, Brian?"

"I'm okay." The detective forced a confident nod. "Get going. While you still can."

Five cops stepped into the shadows, and were gone.

"They should be okay. The Shadow Realm takes your energy. Hits people who can't do magic _really_ hard. But Yami can look out for them." Mokuba gripped Rafe's hand tight as he led them toward the scent of salt air, wishing he knew how to lend his own strength to the tired cop. _He feels like Joey did after he summoned Milus._ "How long have you guys been in here? Feels like you've been fighting the shadows for hours."

"I don't know. My watch stopped when the shadows ate it." Rafe swallowed. "I kept pulling them off, and the others couldn't even see them..." His voice cracked. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Mokuba reassured him. "Magic scares even nii-sama, sometimes." A shred of sound whispered past his ears. "Did you hear that?"

"Singing," Rafe breathed.

_"Can't get no satisfaction_  
"From the facts?  
"You better run, homeboy -  
"A fact's a fact  
"From Nome to Rome, boy..."

A chilly duet laced the air; one voice young and vengeful, the other ancient and pitiless as the sea.

"Something's with her." The detective touched his gun. "Is this going to do any good?"

"Maybe," Mokuba admitted. The Reaper hadn't been Corinna's Monster, just an ordinary denizen of this hazardous piece of the Shadow Realm. Corinna liked serpents. Bullets _should_ work.

They stepped onto the gray sand beach, and Mokuba swallowed. _Only I don't know if bullets will work on_ that...

Emerald and olive scales were curled around Corinna's translucent spirit, gold glinting off the Serpentine Princess' armored corset as the monster caressed her caller's hair with gloved hands. A serpent's fanged smile gleamed at them, all the more frightening for the lovely crimson lips that framed it.

"Of course," Rafe muttered, numb. "We couldn't have something simple and _harmless_ to get past. Like Russian mobsters, or a Jamaican posse..."

"I'm not giving up," Mokuba said fiercely. "Cory?"

"Gonna kick some gluteus max..." Distant eyes drifted toward them, dark with hate. "Who are you?"

**Never mind them, little one. We're so close now.** Violet gloves combed through brown hair. **So very close...**

"I'm Mokuba." And he would not shiver, even though that chill whisper in his mind brought back memories of eavesdropping turned violent, when the Big Five had decided his brother had to perish. _A homicidal Duel Monster. Nii-sama, I wish you were here._ But Mokuba smiled, and indicated the detective with a shrug. "And this is Detective Rafe. You remember him?" _Please, remember him._

"Hey, kid," Rafe nodded casually. But from Mokuba's angle, he could see the detective's hand ready on his gun. "Haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"

Corinna giggled; a chilling laugh Mokuba hadn't heard since the last time Marik had been loose. "We're going to get him. Can't you see?"

**Oh yes. Do see.** The Princess swept a hand over the edge of the water, molding wave and foam into a glossy ring of _elsewhere_. **See what we have wrought, from shadows, from vengeance...**

_"Please, stop!"_ Montgomery's thin voice was almost drowned by shredding metal, snapping jaws of meat and bread. _"I'll do anything - anything!"_

"Please. That's funny." Cory laughed again, but her spirit's eyes were wet. "I said _please_ , I know I did. I said _why_ , and _stop_ , and none of it meant anything..."

"But it did," Rafe said gently. "It did, Cory. We know what he did. My partners are right there, ready to arrest him. Right now. All you have to do is stop and let them do it."

"He killed my dad!" Shadows rose up from the water, sifted out of the moonlight. "He killed my dad, and you didn't do anything!"

"But we know now," Rafe stepped forward, voice soothing. "He's going down for murder, I promise-"

**Human law?** The serpent laughed. **Foolish mortal. You know you'll only let him walk free. And we won't let that happen. Will we, mistress?**

"He tried to kill my mom! He _hurt_ me!" Shadows darkened Corinna's eyes, set them ablaze with amber fury. "And I won't let him get away with it! Serpentine Princess, attack!"

Jaws agape, the snakelike Monster lunged.

Rafe ducked and fired, bullets _spang_ ing off patterned scales. Yelped as coils seized him. Struggled against scaled muscle, swearing, as the Princess licked her lips and raised claws to strike.

_Attack must not be high enough. If he were a dragon, I could help_ , Mokuba thought frantically, searching his deck. _I know dragons. My cards know dragons. Or a spellcaster - but he's not. He's a warrior. Like Joey. He's-_

Of course.

"Dragonic Attack!"

Silver-blue energy swirled up around the detective, wreathing him in a dragon's misty form. The Princess slashed mist and flesh alike, hissing in fury as her prey's struggles started to loosen her coils.

_And as long as he counts as a Dragon_ \- "Mountain!" Mokuba called. "Dragon Treasure!"

Waves split around rising stone, shattering Corinna's watery mirror. A golden sphere dropped into the fray, shrinking until it slipped easily into the bleeding detective's pocket.

"No! You can't. I won't _let_ you." Ashes swirled in the spirit's grip, forming an ominous, too-familiar Trap Card. "Dragon Cap-"

With one swift lunge, Mokuba clapped a hand over her mouth.

"You're - under - arrest!" Rafe pinned the Princess to wet sand, clicking on cuffs as he dodged her writhing tail.

The Dragon Capture Jar swirled back into ashes.

_Whew_. Mokuba relaxed his grip. "Look. Cory. Your mom's here, she really misses you-"

The screech of handcuffs snapping was lost in a roar of flames, as fiery comets smashed into Mokuba's chest.

_Hinotama_. Mokuba tried to draw breath past the pain, remembering how Malik had blasted Yugi with the deadly magic card. _But - Cory didn't call it!_

Corinna was shrieking too fiercely to summon magic, squirming free with teeth and elbows and kicking feet. "Princess!"

The creature snaked past her caller, jaws gaping impossibly wide as she coiled her tail around the young sorcerer's chest.

_She broke a trap._ She _broke a trap. A monster can't_ do _that-_ Too late, Mokuba felt coils cinch down. _Can't breathe. Can't-_

Arms snatched him free, cradled him against a merino wool jacket at a dead run. "I have," Rafe panted. "Good news and bad news."

_Air. Air is good._ "Yeah?" Mokuba croaked.

Rafe ducked a swipe of gloved talons, dodged a dead tree as the Princess and shrieking spirit slithered in his wake. "They're following us."

"What's - good news?"

"Ookazi!"

Red lit the world about them, flames closing in with lethal glee.

* * *

  
"W-why isn't this working?" Jenna's teeth chattered.

Yami spread a hand to the hospital's shadows, testing their heft, their ragged edges that were a reflection of Cascade's torn magic. "Your daughter is tangled in a web not of her weaving. Magic has been shattered here. The shards hold her fast, piercing her to the core of her hate." Yet it was more than that. There was a sense of _presence_ in the web of magic, of malice older than the world's first dawn. Malice that had no place in the Shadow Realm, or in any realm _ma'at_ held sway...

_Demon._ Yami gathered magic about him, feeling shards of memory pierce him with a chill of true fear. _We face a demon, my own._

/I'm scared, Yami./

Honesty demanded honesty. /As am I./ Crimson eyes narrowed. /But we are not alone./

/I know./ He felt Yugi brace himself, shoving back fear to focus on this deadly duel. /Corinna. You think her name's close enough to Corinne for the Darkness to affect her?/

/I don't know modern names well enough to be certain, aibou. But gods help us if you're right./ Drawing a card from his deck, Yami nodded.

In his soul room, Yugi swallowed. /Yami... if you set _that_ trap..../

/Our deck is built to fight, not capture. And there's a limit to how much even we can take./ The spirit sighed. /I won't use it unless we must./

/I know./ Yugi's trust pulsed down their bond. /Set it./

Trap facedown on the gurney, Yami placed a second card face-up. "Blue Medicine."

A blue-filled phial shimmered and shattered, spreading warmth across the shadows. Corinna's unconscious breathing eased. Jenna touched her cheek. "Cory?"

A flutter of wings caught Yami's ear as the Dark Magician aimed his lance at movement in the shadows. Dreamsprite's green glow lit a small host of uniforms, human eyes wild with panic as a half-dozen guns aimed his way.

"Holy freaking-"

"What the hell-"

"Is that-?"

"No shooting!" Jenna yelped, putting her body between the gurney and the likely lines of fire.

"Like the lady said." Henri Brown pushed his way forward, meeting the Magician eye to unyielding eye. "Who the hell are you?"

The Dark Magician arched a violet brow. Inclined his head toward Yami.

"A staunch ally, and a friend," Yami said frankly. "One I trust to the last." He held out an arm so the sprite could perch. "You left Mokuba unguarded?"

Dreamsprite winced.

"He made her go with us," Henri said in a rush. "Said we wouldn't last long if we didn't get out of here. Have to say I'm starting to believe him." The detective moved to grab Yami's shoulder, jerked to a halt as the Magician's gaze turned chill and warning. "He's got my partner!"

Ah. That explained the sudden draw on his power. Few humans could face a Duel Monster without magical aid. Much less a demon... though leave it to a Kaiba to try.

/He's brave./

"Let's pray not lethally brave, aibou," Yami muttered. "Too much of his brother in him."

_Help_. A whisper on the wind, the whimper of a child pressed beyond endurance.

Yami snarled. He'd _felt_ Hinotama strike Mokuba. One direct assault in the Shadow Realm, on top of frantic spells... the youngling would never stand a second. _Aibou!_

/Mokuba!/ And Yugi's will was entwined with his, two spirits moving as one as they flipped the trap face-up-

"Barrel Behind the Door!"

A gold-and-faience matchlock pistol materialized, lazuli-hooded serpent on the grip snarling as it sucked in Ookazi's flames-

And fired them back.

* * *

  
/Something's happened,/ Ryou said suddenly. /Something big./

Bakura nodded, trying to catch his breath. His hands were trembling as he chose three cards, set them face down. _I must be out of practice._

/It's easier to kill than bind, yami. Why do you think cops pile on six at a time?/

Bakura snarled. /I despise cops, hikari./

A wry chuckle tickled his bond. /I know. Ironic, isn't it?/

"I really, really _hate_ Sinister Serpents," Mai growled beside him, urging her trio of harpies on as they grappled with three winged snakes. "They just keep coming and coming...."

The dome of shadows exploded.

/Mai!/

Ryou's terror threw him between Valentine and the blast of darkness, absorbing the force that would have shattered one new to magic. _Damn you, hikari..._

/Bakura? Bakura!/ Cold fear gripped him, tried to pull him back from the dark. And failed. / _Yami!_ /

* * *

  
Rough concrete biting into his palms. A chorus of groans rising from the heap of bodies where shadows had been. A serpentine hiss....

Ryou pushed himself to his hands and knees - and found himself nose to elegant, cold-blooded nose with a furious Serpentine Princess.

_Eeek!_ /Yami, help!/

Silence in his mind.

_And to think a year ago I would have been glad-_ "Flip!"

Lavender glue surged out of a sudden pit in the roof, snaring the Princess before her gloves could slash him.

"Lovely trap," Ryou muttered, dragging Mai's semiconscious form out of the monster's clawed reach. Kaiba was still standing, ignoring the smoke rising from shadow-seared clothing. His Blue Eyes snapped and snarled, holding Hyozanryu pinned; Ryou doubted a spear through the heart would break the sorcerer's concentration. _No help there._ "Yugi? Mokuba? Anyone?"

"Stake the girl out for the hyenas," a familiar voice cursed in a language lost millennia ago. "Chisel her name off the family tomb...."

Ah. Yami. In quite a temper, from the sound of it. _And worse luck, in no shape to fight_ , Ryou realized, seeing tri-colored spikes shake as Yami tried to disentangle himself from steel and unconscious bodies.

Familiar violet robes bent over the pharaoh, gently lifting Yami clear. The Dark Magician glanced his way, cut sea-green eyes across in warning.

"Harpy Sisters!" Ryou called, ducking. Mai's creature, not his, but Bakura had lent them strength. _Please!_

The Princess smiled, fangs flashing white. Lunged-

Screeching, harpies descended; one on each arm, the third lifting the heavy tail to throw their enemy back into the sticky hole. Scraping glue off their talons, shapely wings spread before Ryou, willing to ward him with their mistress.

_Corinna has four free monsters, I have three_ , Ryou calculated, eyes on the Serpents wriggling his way. _I'm dead._

No. _No._ His yami had had a plan, before the blast. He knew it.

_But I've never summoned a monster on my own... oh, curse it!_ "Bite Shoes!"

It hurt. Like fire; like fighting the pull of the sea at high tide. But he clenched his teeth and fought the magic into place, calling toothed ruby high heels into being.

Mai groaned, hands gripping his slacks as she tried to raise her head. "You've _got_ to be kidding."

Ryou grinned toothily. _You've never met this fiend, Mai._ "Flip Hyozanryu!"

Dark power misted from his Monster, forcing Corinna's diamond dragon into defense. Snarling, three Blue Eyes pounced and tore.

"Ouch." Mai shook her head. "But the Serpents!"

_Oh lord._ The smaller snakes were starting to shimmer now, shadows preparing to reform into stronger creatures-

_One last card,_ Ryou told himself dazedly. _Just one._ "Non-Aggression Area!"

A wall of translucent violet slammed up, sealing the Serpents in with her Harpies, unable to escape.

"Got you." He sat down hard, trying not to fall on Valentine. "One turn. Make it count!"

"You got it!" Mai grinned. "Triple Scratch attack!"

* * *

  
"You carry those chemicals in your _trunk?_ " Disbelief rang through Solomon's voice.

"Never know when you might have to make a volcano," Joel shrugged, heading toward the far side of the tattered SUV. "Or something else... damn! Where'd they come from?"

_News choppers. Terrific._ Blair squinted against the sudden downdraft from hovering rotors, hand clenched on Jim's arm as Megan crept toward the driver's side, where the Burger snapped and snarled. _I hate this plan. I really, really hate this plan_....

And Jim nodded, catching Joel's whisper. "Time to move."

_Feet, don't fail me._ They hit the SUV's back doors, Jim wielding a crowbar as Megan set up a hue and cry he could hear even over the rotor howl. "Hey! Beefless!" the Aussie called. "Is that mayo I see under that stale excuse for a bun? _You're_ not flame-broiled, that's for certain-"

Jim's hands stuttered, mid-pry. "Connor's insulting a hamburger."

The Burger snarled. Hurled a shred of painted metal toward the inspector. The ragged shard whirled through wind, arced around and sucked upward-

No fool, the chopper pilot pulled a swift sideways hop, then climbed before any more projectiles could head his way. Blair could all but hear the reporters inside shriek in outrage.

"And it's working. Roll with it, Jim." Blair yanked on the handle, pulling the door clear of a lump of blubbering executive.

Shaking hands reached out. "Oh god! Oh god, you've got to-"

Jim pulled the bloodied suspect nose to flared nose. "Montgomery, do us all a favor and _shut up_." He jerked the man back. "And take off your jacket. Now."

"What?"

Blair swiped his strip of hieroglyphs through Montgomery's blood and sweat, yanked out strands of mousse-laced hair. Tied the whole bundle in a paper knot, and stuffed it into the pocket of the suit jacket his partner had just stripped off their yelping suspect. Let himself have one more deep breath, and a fleeting, _man, I hope Solomon knows what we're doing..._

Concentrate. Forget the jacket in his hands. There _was_ no jacket in his hands. No blood. No hair. No spell-scribed paper. What he held was Montgomery, cursing and fighting and trying to get away-

"Megan, _move!_ Blair, come on!"

Jim ripped cloth - ripped _Montgomery_ from his hands, and flung him back into the SUV. Took his partner by the arm, and dragged him off the side of the road.

And the Burger was finally inside the SUV, tearing its enemy into bloody shreds.

_Montgomery_ , Blair pictured fiercely as Jim dragged him behind the pickup's cover. Holding the image of blood, and pain, and screams. _Montgomery inside, Montgomery dying...._

"Down!" Joel ordered.

The blast shredded the SUV in a blaze of orange and white. Mustard and charred meat filled the air.

"Charbroiled Burger," Jim chuckled, flinging off bits of wilted lettuce. "Nice work, Joel."

Blair opened his eyes, regarding one very alive, very white-faced accounting executive.

_Huh. It worked._

And passed out.

* * *

  
_"Nooo!"_

Blue Eyes soaring overhead, Seto ignored the translucent spirit to tear at tangled bodies. Let her bleed. Let her perish. All that mattered was... "Mokuba!"

"Nii-sama." Cradled in dragon's magic and a groaning detective's arms, his brother clutched at his wrist-guard. "It's not a monster!"

**No.** The Princess' voice was chill and raging as a winter sea, echoing around Corinna's scream. **A shaman's trick!**

Darkness coiled out from her scales, evaporating Ryou's Adhesion trap like mist. Gloved hands tore Harpies from the air. Fanged jaws gaped wide, and feasted.

_Not a monster_ , Seto knew, chilled to the bone as Mai's scream - cut off. He might not have Yugi's memory for every card invented, but he knew the Sisters' attack points. No four-star monster should have been able to do that.

"He got _away_ ," the spirit wailed. "No, no, no...."

**He shall not!** The Princess coiled toward the unconscious blonde Duelist, sneering at the fanged shoes Ryou had shifted to defense. The white-haired teen was staring at her in horrified fascination, shaking hands too weak to draw a knife, much less a card. **Feed me, mistress.** A forked tongue licked ruby lips. **Grant me the last of your strength, and we shall have them all.**

"The last of her strength, spawn of Sebau? A willing sacrifice, so you might finish what the necromancer began, and tear the way free for your dark cohorts to follow? Never!" Yami leaned on the Dark Magician, gaze pure, furious crimson. " _Rain of Mercy!_ "

Seto lifted his face to the sudden, sparkling downpour. Drank in the strength of it; life and light and hope after the darkness. _Forgive me._

*There is _nothing_ to forgive,* a scaled voice rumbled in his mind. *Restore _ma'at_. Cast us against this darkness!*

"Wingbeat!"

Silver-white wings clapped down, gusting bright magic as one dragon vanished from the sky. The Princess' form shattered, scales falling away from a shape of twisting dark and blood.

Corinna's spirit screamed.

"Don't look!" Seto stood between his brother and horror, hearing the cop gag behind him. _The necromancer's doing. I should have known._ Yet... why did it seem so familiar?

**Priest and Pharaoh.** The creature's voice was still chill, but thick and rotten as a frozen midden. **Worthless thief, dark and lostling as my petty little mistress.** Dark tendrils snaked toward Corinna's petrified spirit. **And none of you with the strength to stop me!**

"Shadow Spell!" Green-edged darkness swirled around the demon, bound it in place as Seto jerked his hand down. _That won't last long_.

Yami snarled, limping into his reach. _"Sedjem-en, Seth...."_

_Listen to me, Seth._ The ancient words swirled around him, alien and familiar as the hand on his arm. _We have faced this foe before. Fought it before._ Won _before._

_Trust me. Memory fails us both - but_ trust _me. Trust your heart._

**Trust** your **heart, dark child?** The demon laughed, rustling free of shadow. **I know you, Seth! Your heart lies in three dragons. You have but two, and no strength to call another!**

But there _was_ another, Seto knew. Right beside him, holding Mokuba with all the strength human flesh and bone could muster. A dragon in mortal guise, but a dragon nonetheless.

Seto seized its aura. Bound it to him, to his Blue Eyes, to the endless power flowing from the Puzzle beside him. "Yours," he growled, seizing small fingers in a bone-crushing grip. "Strike!"

"Dark Magic attack!"

* * *

  
/Oooh, pretty fireworks..../

Bakura blinked, struggling forward as his hikari passed out. Helicopters were an annoying drumbeat to the north, weaving into ambulance wails from below. Mai was warm by his side, sighing in her sleep as the Rain worked on the worst of her wounds. And as for the rest of his fellow Duelists... _Drop me in Duat's fires. They actually did it._

At a cost. Pharaoh and sorcerer were a singed navy and violet heap on concrete, tangled around the younger Kaiba and a thoroughly spellbound detective. Alive, the rise and fall of their breathing was enough to tell him that, but well and truly _out_.

_Well. This is an opportunity not to be missed._ Bakura dismissed Ryou's Bite Shoes with a wave of his hand. No need for defense now; the demon was shattered to the four winds, dark shreds dissolving in sparkling rain. Not that he had eyes for it with the Puzzle glinting in his reach. _And now, to take what is mine by force of will_...

"I'm sorry." A spirit's thin voice on the wind, nearly drowned by the chopper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it...."

Bakura jerked his head up, scowling at paired, hiccupping sobs. _Mother and daughter_. One whole, one divided into a limp form and a despairing spirit. The irony struck him. _So close, and yet so far._

"Oh, Cory." Jenna brushed her fingers across the still cheek. "Come home."

"Mom?" The spirit drifted on the wind, reaching out with intangible hands. "Mom, I'm right here. I'm _sorry_ , I didn't know - I was scared, I-"

"It wasn't supposed to be this way!" Angry tears splashed onto limp brown hair. "I lost my Austell. I can't lose you too!" Jenna moaned, bending over her flesh and blood. "I want my daughter _back_...."

_I want_ mewet _back_...

Bakura snarled at memory's echo. Ryou's. It had to be Ryou's. His hikari never had gotten over losing mother and sister in one fell blow. _Not like me. I survived the massacre, I sought my revenge. I seek it even now-_

Drops of pearl fell from a spirit's eyes. "I want to go home."

"Then go." Bakura cast out a golden cord of magic, using the Ring's strength to open the path for this wayward soul. _I can't believe I'm wasting my time helping this child!_ "Now."

Sinking into her body, Corinna looked at him. "I _know_ you."

The Ring's spirit snorted. "I doubt that." Gold shimmered and vanished; Corinna stirred in her mother's arms, murmuring sleepily.

"Cory!" Tears became an impenetrable, joyous babble; Bakura caught _love, sweetie, scared me_ , and promptly tuned the rest of the mush out.

_Now._ Bakura dusted off his hands. _To get what I came for-_

A white-and-blue helicopter hovered overhead, _KCDE News_ emblazoned on its side. Camera in full view of bodies, wreckage, and magic.

_Isis, no!_

Fangs bared, he snatched the Ring. _"Forget!"_

Light flooded the helicopter, and it turned absently away.

_That... may have been too much_ , Bakura admitted to himself, swaying as the threat of public exposure veered out of sight. _But I will not be denied. Not so close-_

"Easy, there." Houlihan caught him as he tripped on fissured concrete. "I'd say you just about hit empty, young man." The shaky nurse efficiently ushered him back to the Johnstons, sweeping practiced eyes over the casualty-strewn rooftop as she set him down. "Stay put, okay? We're going to have to commandeer a whole waiting room for this mess, and I really don't need one more shock victim draining our plasma stocks."

_How dare she._ Amber eyes narrowed, shadows boiling in his blood. _I am a thief and a stealer of souls. I_ am _darkness. I am...._

_Tired._

Weariness didn't matter. He had revenge to execute. One well-placed knife, and the pharaoh would be short his most powerful ally-

"It was _you!_ " A flurry of arms and hospital gown struck his chest. "Mom! This is my angel!"

"Your-" Bakura choked on the word. _Separation from her body has driven her mad. Or she's been fay-struck. It's the only explanation._ "Child, what are you doing?"

Young arms had wrapped around his neck, and a wet face was buried in drifts of white hair. "You didn't let me hurt him. I was just trying to hurt the bad guys, but he was there, and I couldn't stop the Ghoul...."

A sleepy giggle tickled his bond. /I'd say you have a fan, yami./

Bakura shuddered at the thought. An innocent? Looking up to _him?_ Gods forbid. _Stop snickering at me and get her_ off!

Ryou only laughed.

* * *

  
"...And that's what you missed in the mayor's office, Captain," Agnes Houlihan concluded, making a note on her PDA.

"Duty, honor, courage," Simon Banks growled under his breath, pacing the wreckage of the hospital roof. "Going to take that motto and shove it down His Honor's throat."

Much easier to think about that than how on earth half a dozen cops had ended up here, miles from their last known location. Much, much easier to think about stuffing brass and wood into the politician's gaping maw than about the impossible stories spreading like wildfire from the highway and museum.

_Living bones, man-eating burgers... where did I miss the off-ramp that said "Twilight Zone"?_

He was not going to think of how those stories would double once the hospital staff took a good look at what had been their helipad. Dust. Rubble. Scorch marks. Places where a surface that ought to be solid as steel had split like dried mud. "Your _grandson_ did this?"

"Not alone, I'm sure," Solomon said wryly. The elderly man leaned wearily on the doorframe, rings under his eyes as if he'd stayed up all night. "Relax, Captain. It's over."

"Relax?" Simon helped the older man inside after Agnes, fuming his way to the elevator. _And the mayor wants Kaiba to invest in Cascade? Hell, might as well ask the Marines to use downtown for a demolition range!_ "How the hell am I supposed to relax when a couple of _teenagers_ let loose World War III?"

"Usually responsible teenagers," Solomon noted as they headed down. "Try to look on the bright side. You've made a major arrest. I doubt Montgomery will even think of calling a lawyer before he's completely incriminated himself."

No kidding. The VP was scared stiff. Not of Jim, which was the usual result of the sentinel and guide crossing paths with criminals. Of _Blair._ "How are my people?"

"Like I told you, Simon. They're fine," Agnes offered him a sympathetic smile as they headed for the room packed with blanket-wrapped cops. "So far it looks like a six-eight split; hypothermia versus exhaustion. Unless you count Cory, who's a little of both." She canted questioning brows Solomon's way. "You say it's energy drain?"

"Two different forms," the older man confirmed. "Your hypothermic patients suffered a passive energy drain. You might call it a bad reaction to hostile environmental conditions."

"An allergy?" Simon said, wishing he didn't believe it. Hang around Jim and Blair long enough, you learned all the nasty things a body could do to itself when something set it off. Hypothermia was a new one. But then, they'd never had living shadows on the menu before.

"In a way," Solomon acknowledged. "The others-" he hesitated.

"The others were getting hit by fireballs." Agnes winced. "They told me to stay clear."

"And you did precisely what you should have, Ms. Houlihan," Solomon said firmly. "From the sound of it, they had a narrow enough shave as it was."

_Narrow shave, hell_ , Simon thought darkly, stalking into the cop and Duelist-filled room. _If Sandburg ever scares me like that again-_

"So if we can just pry this loose..." Blair hesitated as Rafe gasped, stilled his hand a half-inch above the detective's shirt. "Damn."

"You almost had it." Jim laid an encouraging hand on his partner's shoulder. "His scent slipped back to normal for a second."

_Scent?_ Simon scowled Solomon's way. _I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to ask_....

"Okay." Blair wriggled his fingers, scooped them slowly toward Rafe's shoulder. "Maybe if I slip under here-"

"Don't." Rafe's face was white. He rubbed his chest, wincing. Huddled in his blanket and shivered. "Just - stop."

"Sorry." Blair tilted his head, eyes slightly unfocused. "Any ideas? Usually I could pry loose somebody else's energy, but this thing's digging pretty deep in his aura."

Blanket wrapped around him like a cloak as he perched in a red plastic chair, Yugi shook his head. "I don't think it's coming out."

"It better. Scent's getting stronger." Jim scowled toward the chestnut-haired teen curled on one of the cots jammed in a corner. Mokuba was snuggled in beside his brother, a faint smile touching his sleeping face. "What the hell did he do?"

"Um... it wasn't just Seto," Yugi admitted. "Mokuba and I - well, it was pretty hectic."

"Define _hectic_ ," Simon ordered.

Blair jumped. "Jeez, Simon-!"

Simon caught him, passed the anthropologist to his glaring partner as he wobbled. "You look like hell, Sandburg."

"Nice-" Blair yawned. "Nice to see you, too, Simon...."

Simon rolled his eyes. Tapped Rafe on the shoulder. "Brian. You okay?"

"I don't know." The younger detective shivered. "I feel weird. I just want to sleep."

"Any reason he shouldn't?" Simon looked his selection of experts over. _Teenager, wiped out shaman-detective, and a sentinel who runs on instinct most of the time. I am_ screwed.

"No," Yugi said honestly.

"Yes," Jim bit out, shifting his snoozing partner to his other arm. "Told you. It's getting stronger."

"And none of us has the strength left to do anything about that, Detective." Solomon sagged into a chair. "Even magic has its limits."

Weary violet widened in alarm. "Grandpa-"

"Just stay put, Yugi. Don't think I don't know you _should_ be as dead to the world as Kaiba." A gray brow rose.

The teen's cheeks flushed. "I'm okay." Violet eyes glinted crimson, faded back to amethyst weariness. "I _am_ okay. At least for a little while. There's just something I need to tell - oof!"

"Gotcha!" Corinna crowed, striped sleeves wrapped around the smaller teen. "Did you hear that? Mom says they got him! They got him! Whee!"

"Urk," Yugi managed. "Great. _Air_ -"

"Oh, wow." Corinna released the gasping Duelist, propped her elbows on the arm of Rafe's chair. "You've got a dragon!"

"She's been seeing things," Jenna tried to urge her daughter off. "We should be going-"

"But he does, Mom! Luster, sort of - only it's all black, with silver claws. Really pretty." Cory blinked at the detective. "Kind of small, though. Not like his." She pointed toward Kaiba.

"Dragon?" Rafe stammered.

Jenna blinked. "Does he have a dragon?"

"Oh, Seto definitely has a dragon," Yugi murmured. "Which means... oh. _That's_ how to see it." He smiled. "You'll be fine, Detective."

Jim glared at him.

"He _will_. It just takes some getting used to," Yugi said defensively. Bit his lip, and turned to Corinna. "The night before last, I saw-" he hesitated. "Someone who knew you. He wanted you to know the key was with Faith."

"Saw who?" Jim asked pointedly.

"I don't know anybody named Faith-" Cory sucked in a breath. "Lady of Faith! But they said my Deck burned..."

"I still have your spare cards." Jenna took a cloth pouch out of her purse. "You're supposed to bring things to coma patients, and..." Eyes wet, she hugged her daughter close.

"I'm _okay_. And it's a side deck, Mom. Not spare cards." Corinna shuffled through brown-backed cards, came to a stop. "Mom?"

Jenna lifted a sticky yellow strip off the Lady of Faith. "This is a password." Her voice shook as she met Simon's eyes. "From the reference number, it's one of Accounting's backup data files."

"Backups." The captain took it carefully, voice gentle. "As in Austell's, before the books were cooked?"

White-faced, Jenna nodded. Swallowed.

"I think we just got motive, people." Simon nodded at Jim. "Park your partner somewhere to sleep it off. We're going to grab a judge."

Jim set his feet. "It's not my case."

"Then see if Henri's thawed out yet," Simon said, exasperated. "Better yet, grab Megan and Joel back from Bomb Squad; they know what Joel used, they ought to be able to take the scene from there. But you are coming, Detective." _I'm not missing evidence on Questscape. Not this time._

"Fine. Sir." Jim scowled at spiky hair. "But just so we have the chain of custody straight -who told you about that card?"

Yugi sighed. "A ghost."

Jim stared at him.

The teen stared back, dark brow lifting as eyes shifted to ruby. "Don't tell me you're surprised, Detective. You've seen spirits before. It's in your nature." Lips twisted into a wry smirk. "Just as magic is in mine."

Turning on his heel, Jim stomped out.

_And about the only thing scarier than a perp afraid of Sandburg is Ellison trying to be subtle_ , Simon thought, walking down the hall to the stairwell where he knew Jim would be waiting. "All right, Jim. Give. And if you think whatever it is will get you out of Questscape-"

"I don't," Jim cut in. "But I want to stop somewhere first, Simon. It's already been a few days and scents don't last forever."

Simon tapped his glasses up. "This is about the ghost thing, isn't it?" Man, he did not want to think about that.

Jim sighed. "How many spirits would have known about that password?"

"That's what I was trying not to think about," Simon growled. "Magic, monsters, ghosts...."

"That's just it, Simon." Jim frowned. "He was willing to tell us about the magic. And the monsters."

"But not the ghosts," Simon said reluctantly. "You think you know why?"

"I will if I check. If I'm right, then I know why Yami and Bakura keep trying to get us too mad to think straight. Poor kids." Jim sounded oddly thoughtful. "Simon, I need to tell you about a phone call..."


	8. Chapter 8

Blair fingered the remnants of a serpent-torn beautification sign. "Don't think I'll ever look at this park the same way again." He looked up. "Are they there?"

Jim listened toward the picnic table, then past it. "Yeah. With Kaiba and Bakura blending into the background within shouting distance."

Blair winced. "They're that scared of us."

"You're still wiped after a day sawing logs, Chief, and you didn't call up dragons. And we still have witchcraft laws on the books." Jim tapped the folder of information he'd pulled together from Dan, Homicide, and a few of Blair's Internet-pals in Egyptology. "He's seventeen. A little young to know something like this falls on the side of the angels. And a lot of cops would find a way to lock them both up and worry about the law later. This-"

"-Is scary," Blair finished. "But you think-"

"Yeah."

Blair rubbed the nape of his neck, nervous. "I mean, we weren't there-"

"Evidence speaks for itself. You taught me to trust my nose. Trust your instincts."

"It's just...."

"Scary? Yeah." Jim squeezed a companionable hand on his guide's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go tell a story."

"Detectives." Solomon stood as they approached the table, stepping between them and his grandson. "You wanted to see us?"

"Unofficially," Jim said calmly, laying the folder on the table. He reached out with his senses, catching a nervous heartbeat, a faint whiff of ozone and desert around Yugi. _Yep. Yami's right under the surface. How does he_ do _that?_ "Thought we'd just fill you in on a few things." He glanced at his partner.

"A couple of nights ago Homicide investigated a suspicious death in Point Grey Cemetery," Blair began. "It's going to be written up as causes unknown."

_Skipped beat, panic - calming now, that's interesting. Know a little biofeedback, do you? Figures. Your uncle does._ Jim hid a smile. _Let's see how it holds up to this._ "Which is a shame, given that it ought to go down as justifiable homicide."

Solomon swallowed. "I don't see how that could be possible, Detective Ellison."

Jim barely stopped himself from nodding in sudden comprehension. _So that's it. Part of it, anyway. Your grandpa doesn't get it, and he's all you've got left._ The former Army Ranger's lips parted in a silent whistle. _And that's why you headed for Kaiba._

Kaiba _had_ killed, without regrets; Jim had known that almost from the moment he'd met the dragon master's gaze. Where and why a seventeen-year-old had been driven to kill, he had no clue. _Though given what it takes to set that ice prince off, I'd bet it had something to do with his little brother._ "Don't think they're going to tell us what happened, partner."

"So why don't we tell you what happened," Blair said quietly. And opened the folder.

Jim sat, arms folded on the table, listening to the nervous hearts across from him as his partner wove the story of one dark night. In his mind's eye he saw the scene Blair painted with words, beeswax candles burning in cemetery darkness, the boiling cauldron of herbs and blood....

_A sweaty hand drops three bundles into simmering crimson; hair and fingernails, stolen from the morgue by bribing one of Dan Wolf's less moral associates. Lost spirits sob in the darkness, dragged to the caster by malign magic. A woman drowned by her boyfriend. A runaway girl, dead of exposure and the streets and despair. And a man; one gunshot to the chest, surprise and shock and a last gasp of betrayal. Austell Johnston._

_A photo flutters into the cauldron. The chant rises. Blocks away, a Santeria priestess writhes in agony._

_Footsteps pierce the chant; quiet, unfaltering despite the darkness. A small figure stops, well out of reach of the necromancer. And then_....

"Then we're not exactly sure what happened," Blair admitted. "Based on what we know now, and the fact that the hair nearly crawled off my arms when we walked the scene, I'm guessing some kind of magical battle. You fell. He... died." The guide sighed. "And then you limped out of the cemetery, called the cops, and got a cab back to your hotel. Desk clerk says you walked in looking like death warmed over."

Solomon winced. "You have no proof."

"Nothing that would hold up in court," Jim said evenly, watching Yugi's stricken face. "But enough for Simon. The guy was hexing a local priestess. She had a restraining order on him. He wasn't doing it for kicks." _Damn it, the kid's scared to death. Solomon's right here, doesn't he think his own grandfather will protect him-_

_Oh, hell. He doesn't._

"Hex is putting it mildly," Blair picked up the thread. "We got in touch with a few Egyptologists; I know one who studies curse bowls. She says that from the look of it, he put together an ancient Egyptian necromantic spell. Magic to shatter a soul and let loose demons." He shuddered. "I know Corinne Santiago. She almost died that night. If I'd been there, _I'd_ have shot him."

"You'd have tried to talk him down, first," Jim said wryly. He hadn't missed that sudden rise in heart rates across the table at her name. "When he didn't listen, then you'd have shot him."

Blair nodded reluctantly. "And it would have been a good shooting, Solomon," the anthropologist admitted. "Corinne believes in her faith. And belief can kill. Even without magic." He faced Yugi squarely. "I'd just like to know how you did it."

Yugi paled. "I...."

"Detective!" Solomon started angrily.

"I'm supposed to be the shaman of this city, Solomon." Blair swallowed, knuckles clenched white on report pages. "I'm supposed to be the one who makes sure things like this don't happen. Please." Teal eyes pleaded with two sets of violet. "Tell me what I missed. Tell me how I can make sure this doesn't happen again." One hand let go of the folder in a rustle of paper, spread helplessly. "Tell me how to stop it if it does."

Yugi bit his lip. Gold flashed, as if a sudden shaft of sun had caught his pendant dead on-

And for a moment Jim caught that disturbing double image, as innocence stepped aside for darkness.

" _In Hor, dedj medew_ ," Yami began softly. "By Horus, words spoken: See! I have arisen again. Isis my mother has held her wings over me; Isis great in magic has sent her scorpions to slay my enemies. Seth my brother stands at my right hand, he has slain Apep, the serpent of night, the demon who would devour the sun...." Yami sighed. "The necromancer bent and twisted the magic of Egypt, _seshem_. I could no more miss that than I could an eclipse of the sun. As for the _how_ of his death...."

Solomon touched his arm. "Yami. Don't."

_This is it._ Jim tensed. _This is what Yugi knows Solomon's afraid of. Whatever it is, it's worse than the cards._

"He should know, Solomon. The Shadow Games are loose once more; none of us can change that. His chances of survival will be far greater if he knows the nature of the danger." Yami touched his palms together, drew them slowly apart, as if pulling cold molasses.

Only what pulled between his hands were shadows.

"Gently," Yami warned as Blair gasped. "They will not harm you, so long as I hold them. But gently."

Jim gritted his teeth as his partner touched violet shadows. _Stay calm. Stay calm. Blair needs to know this, as much as you ever needed to grab the dials._ "That's the Shadow Realm Henri was talking about, isn't it."

"A part of it, yes." Yami relaxed his fingers, letting misty shadows curl about his hand like kittens. "I have the power to summon it into this realm, or bring those of this realm there. As I did with Jenna and Mokuba, to find Corinna's wandering soul. As I did to the necromancer, when he challenged my right to free his stolen spirits." A dark brow quirked upward. "The more fool he."

"A challenge in the Shadow Realm invokes a Shadow Game," Solomon explained reluctantly. "The stakes are high. And the game can be anything. A dice roll. A jigsaw puzzle. A Duel...."

"Riddles." Yami laughed darkly, dispelling shadows with a wave of his hand. "He almost had me with the one about icicles."

"That's not funny, Yami. Taking my grandson into that kind of danger-"

"Your danger as well, Grandpa. We could not ignore it." Yami set it aside with a shrug. "Know this, Blair. In a Shadow Game your true nature is revealed. Those who are weak of heart will perish. If you have doubts, if the stakes are too high - forfeit. That, you may endure. I know of very few who have survived losing a Game meant to kill."

"Kaiba," Solomon almost growled.

"No, Grandpa," Yami said gently. "I never intended to kill him."

"But..."

"Kaiba hurt you, yes. But he himself was hurt, and lost, and consumed by darkness. Should I have robbed Mokuba of the one soul who loved him, as I feared Kaiba's pain and anger had robbed us of you?" Multicolored spikes shook slowly. "I shattered the darkness from him. It was vengeance enough."

_Retreat - doubling_ -

And Yugi sighed, blond streaks flopping back into innocent bangs. "He won't ever hurt you like that again, Grandpa. Isn't that enough?"

Jim surreptitiously eyed the kid, caught his partner openly doing the same. _Like a relay runner, handing off the baton. Yugi doesn't fade. He doesn't stress out. He just - switches._

Which did _not_ fit what Jim had been able to look up on MPD.

Weird. Very weird.

"Of course it's enough," Solomon said reluctantly. "That's not the point."

_No, it wouldn't be, would it?_ Jim hid a thoughtful nod. _You didn't blink hearing about Olshaker. Which means Yami's played his Shadow Games before._ And most likely killed before; both Moutos _felt_ like Blair, somewhere in the back of his senses, and Jim knew the kind of psychos Sandburg attracted just by breathing. _But Yami let Kaiba walk... and you don't see the difference._

Kaiba was cold. Cruel. Lethal.

But if the chips were down, Jim would have dumped a bleeding detective on the CEO while he went for help.

_Maybe not Blair_ , the sentinel admitted to himself. _I'd rather leave a casualty with Yugi, the kid cares, but... ice or no ice, Kaiba would never abandon someone in his charge. That kid... that_ young man _is pure steel. He'd keep his word or die trying._

Solomon rested his bearded chin on his hand. "Blair, I'm not certain how much we can help. I know various protective charms, a few minor deceptions; all one needs to keep a dig safe in the Valley of the Kings. But as for finding trouble before it takes root-" He winced slightly. "Yugi's very... attuned to dark magic. I'm not certain how much of that can be taught."

"We could walk the city," Yugi suggested brightly.

"Walk it?" Blair asked, curious.

"Looking for weak spots," the teen nodded. "Like the one in Point Grey. Places where it's easier to call magic. I did it all around my high school, so I wouldn't run into things while I'm trying to think about trigonometry." He looked at Jim, amethyst eyes wide and earnest. "I know it'll take a while, but Grandpa said we'd be here for a week. You could walk with us when you're off-duty. It would help, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely," Jim smiled. The first step in fixing problems was knowing where they were likely to crop up. Ask any beat cop.

"Great!" Yugi bounced off the bench. "I'm going to talk to Ryou, if he can help we could do it faster-"

"And he's off," Blair said under his breath as Yugi raced out of earshot. "Was I that bad?"

"Worse," Jim said confidently. "And what do you mean, _was?_ "

* * *

  
"Yen for your thoughts."

Rafe gripped the railing of the PD roof as he looked out over Cascade. He knew who was behind him; had known almost from the moment the pair opened the roof door. That odd _sense_ of wings and innocence that marked a white dragon cub, beside the sensual, silken feathers and lethal talons of a harpy. "I think that might be an overcharge, Ms. Valentine."

"Please. After almost landing on top of me falling out of the Shadow Realm, Detective? Call me Mai." The purple-clad Duelist sidled up to Rafe, lowered her voice as Mokuba ran to get a better look at a passing traffic helicopter. "Tell me you're not thinking of doing anything stupid."

"I - no, I..." Rafe swallowed. He hadn't even thought of what this might look like. "It's just... the wind feels nice." Was that Henri, waiting and worrying inside the door? He couldn't tell, all he could catch was a smoky hint of fear and familiarity-

"Easy. Easy!" Mai latched onto his shoulder to steady him. "Whatever you're doing, don't push it."

"I don't know what I'm doing." Rafe buried his head in his hands. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"It's called magic, Brian." The blonde dipped her head to catch his gaze, violet eyes full of compassion. "Far as I can tell, most people can slam right up against it; and if it doesn't kill them, they just forget it. Some people see it, believe it, and remember it. They can't use it, lucky bastards, but it clings to them like socks right out of the dryer. And since magic seems to attract magic, life just keeps getting weirder." Mai sighed. "But for a few people - people like you, people like me - hell, Detective, _we_ got the booby prize. Magic likes us." She nudged his shoulder. "I've got a deck with a heartbeat, just itching at me to use it. What have you got?"

"Something that's not me," Rafe said, trying to put words to the feeling in his veins. "It's wind, and light, and claws...." His fingers closed convulsively on the rail. "It's not me, Mai. But it's pulling me. And I'm slipping, and I can't stop." He gripped cool metal, surprised all over again at how frail wrought steel felt. "I should want it to stop."

"Sit down." Mai's tone brooked no argument. "Mokuba? Any ideas?"

The boy skipped over to them, looking Rafe over with too-old eyes. "Yugi said we shoved so hard, we shifted your aura. It was only supposed to be for a little while. But then Seto _needed_ a dragon, and they had to pull in so much magic to fight the demon... Yami doesn't think it's going to go back." Mokuba looked down, shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." Rafe gathered the little hairball into his arms. "It's not your fault, kid."

_Kin._

It rang through him like a bell. This little one was _like_ him. Not the same; Mokuba felt younger, wilder, more in tune with the shadowy cards in his pocket than the wind-carried _feel_ of magic and mystery. But so much like what had nestled in his spirit.

_White dragon cub_. "So how do you live like this?" Rafe asked softly.

A shrug in his arms. "I just do." Mokuba pulled back enough to grin at him. "Besides, nii-sama loves dragons."

"And how," Mai murmured, ruffling the kid's hair. "The casino ship canceled my contract - something about 'acts of God', I think. Guess they couldn't say acts of sea serpent." She snickered. "So I'm catching a flight out with short stuff here. Places to go, tournaments to win...." Mai shared a sneaky grin with the younger Kaiba.

"But Yugi's going to be here." Mokuba stepped back, serious. "He knows dragons, too. He even got Seto to smile!"

"Next best thing to a miracle," Mai informed Rafe. Smiled at Mokuba. "Who knows, kiddo. Between you and Yugi, we might just get your big brother to figure out he's human after all."

"Just wait a second." Rafe gave them both a wary look, heart sinking. "The Moutos are going to be here?"

"Um-hmm." Mai's eyebrows flicked humor at him. "With Ryou. He said something about helping Dr. Wolf fix the morgue so you don't get anymore unexpected visitors." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I were you, I'd lock up the silver."

"He's a-" Rafe swallowed.

"Oh, Ryou's fine," Mai shrugged. "Nice kid. But Bakura could rob you blind just walking past, and you'd never even know it."

"I asked him to show me how, but nii-sama says I should stick to security systems until I'm older." Mokuba folded his arms, disgruntled. "And then he won't tell me how much older!"

"You-" Words failed Rafe. "What do you people _do_ in your spare time?"

"Every once in a while? Save the world." Mai slipped him a wink. "Come on, Detective. Let's go terrorize your bullpen one more time."

* * *

  
_Luggage, check. Tokyo meeting schedule, check. Charitable donation to Cascade General, check._

Watching his company plane being made ready at the Cascade International hangar, Seto snorted at that last item on his mental list. Charity had nothing to do with it. Donating the funds to fix the hospital's roof would cover a significant portion of Kaiba Corporation's American taxes... and if what Ryou had hinted earlier this morning was accurate, he might have good reason to want Cascade General fully operational in the future.

"Rather odd that Mouto-san would set out to meet the shaman of Cascade without even knowing, don't you think?"

Kaiba almost growled at the memory. _Odd_ and _Mouto_ were practically synonymous. But Ryou's comment had been more than enough to pique a master strategist's curiosity. Between glares at the tomb robber while they waited for the detectives' meeting to go to hell, he'd started various searches on Major Crimes in general and one Blair Sandburg in particular. In the course of which he'd pulled up various records - or lack of same, when it came to the paternal side of the man's family - and one of the anthropologist detective's ID photos.

And stared at it for what felt like eternity.

Damn.

"Does he know?" Kaiba had confronted the slender teen once Yugi was safely starting back toward them.

"Have you seen anything explode yet?" Ryou had countered. "I would you _were_ staying. He's innocent, not blind."

Given that the subject of their discussion had just skipped into earshot, further discussion had proved impossible. _Just as well_ , Kaiba told himself now, turning toward the sound of Mokuba's happy chatter as a mingled band of Duelists and two stray cops approached the landing field. _It's none of my concern how far Solomon Mouto may have strayed._

Just as it wasn't his concern why Solomon was concealing what he evidently knew to be the truth. Or how Yugi would react once he did realize what was literally before his eyes. Yugi knew well enough that his grandfather still had a very _active_ social life; if he'd never considered the potential consequences of that, he had only himself to blame....

Seto winced, watching Yugi give Mokuba a parting hug. Picturing the grief and confusion in the small teen's wide eyes when he finally did know. _It's not my problem, damn it!_

"Yeah, email would be great," Sandburg was saying to Mokuba, Ellison taking notes at his side. Mai had already headed on board, muttering something about checking out the competition for a Tokyo tournament. _As if there would be much_ , Kaiba thought dryly. _Valentine's good enough to beat most of them without magic._

"Kaiba-kun?" Yugi approached him, the spike-haired teen's usual optimism bright in his smile. "I know you've got to go soon, but could we talk? About what happened on the roof?"

"We fought. She lost," Kaiba said dryly. "And I have programs to write."

"About what happened to you, Kaiba," Yugi persisted.

"Nothing happened." Believe it hard enough, and it might be true. He'd Dueled. He'd won. That was all.

"Seto." Yugi cocked a dark brow, a milder echo of his darker half's exasperation. "You know what happened. What you remembered. _Who_ you remembered." A small hand found his sleeve. "I know it startled you. Tristan's still getting used to-" Yugi hesitated, aware of the potential listening ears. "To knowing some things. And he doesn't use magic."

"Hmph. Lucky for the rest of us." Damn it, when had Yugi decided _stay away from me_ meant _touch me whenever possible?_

And when had he started letting it happen?

_When you realized your best rival was being crippled by another man's irresponsibility_ , Seto told himself coldly. _Empty victories are a waste of time. Yami has to be fighting at his best, or winning back your title will mean nothing._

Of course. That was all it was; the warmth, the caring, the wild thrill of battling at Yami's side. Just another tactic to ensure his ultimate victory. That was all it could be.

"Seto?" Dark brows drew down, puzzled.

"I need to talk to your grandfather." The sooner Kaiba could get the old man to take up the slack again, the sooner he could abandon this useless warmth. It wasn't fair to Yugi to pretend that he cared-

And small arms had found their way about his chest, hugging him close with more than Yugi's strength. _"Biaw."_

_Mine?!_ Seto stiffened. "Were you drinking the wine of Sekhet-Aanru while you were trapped in that Puzzle, pharaoh? The hells I'm yours!"

Yami snickered.

_Why on earth is he - oh._ Seto bit back another vivid, all too ancient curse. "You," he said, picking Japanese words with great care, "Will not win this."

"Ah, but I don't have to win, Seto." Ruby glinted in amethyst as Yami stepped back, still not speaking any tongue native to the last few centuries. "I only need ensure that you do not lose."

"English or Japanese, damn it!"

The pharaoh granted him a mocking bow. "As you will, _mer setau, sechem hekau, ukhes sebau em maseru_."

_Lover of fire, victorious with magical words, slaughterer of fiends in the night._ Titles given to a Power... or to one who called upon them. Seto drew in a slow, vicious breath. _I'm going to kill him._

Though killing Yami would mean admitting he understood that impossible speech, which meant-

_Details later. Mayhem now._ One swift grab. Just one.

"Seto?" Mokuba looked over at him, wary.

And... he was not going to maim anyone in front of his little brother. Not yet. "Mouto," Kaiba said harshly, stepping aside from the crowd. "A minute of your time."

"What do you want, Kaiba?" Solomon kept his voice low as they walked out of casual view around the corner of hangar.

"Hold your grandson."

Solomon rocked back on his heels. "Excuse me?"

"Hold him, hug him - give him one of those idiotic head-rubs Wheeler deals out," Kaiba bit out. "Do something. He needs - people. To touch. To be touched." _Details_ , Kaiba told himself forcefully. _Give him details, even if it sickens you. Make your case_ once, _so this never has to come up again_. "You've never seen him in school, with Tea and the others. He's always touching someone. Usually it's not me, but he's - starving." Kaiba steeled himself to meet the older man's gaze. "Hate Yami if you have to. But your grandson loves you, don't ask _me_ why, and when you won't touch him you hurt him like-"

_Gozaburo. No. I won't say it. Not for Yugi. Not for anyone_.

"You hurt him," Kaiba finished lamely. "And the sooner you stop it, the sooner he'll leave me alone." _Alone...._

*You're not alone. We're here. We'll always be here.*

_An eternity of dragons. Terrific._ And yet, the idea didn't seem so frightening anymore. The Blue Eyes were power that would never forsake him, power that... cared about Mokuba.

*Just Mokuba?* A scaly laugh tickled him. *Believe that, then. We'll wait.*

"And that's what you want, is it?" Solomon was eyeing him _very_ oddly.

"I want my title back. In a fair fight." Kaiba straightened his violet trench coat, let his lips curl in the familiar dismissive smirk. "That's all that matters."

_Make it to the plane. Just make it to the plane_.

A murmur of voices; a few barked orders, and there was engine-whine and the characteristic _thump_ of wheels-up-

"Seto? Seto!" Mokuba barreled into his arms, driving him back against the plane's cushioned seat. "Nii-sama, talk to me!"

"What in the name of-" Valentine was staring at him, white-faced as she craned her head from the next seat over. "Who died, Kaiba?"

"No one." His eyes stung, and his throat hurt, but he knew he wasn't injured. _Did I breathe in smoke?_ "Don't be a fool."

"Seto." Mokuba's hand touched his cheek. "Did you and Yami fight again?"

"Why would you say..." Kaiba cleared his throat. It burned. _There must have been smoke. Why don't I smell it?_ "No."

But Mokuba was already clinging to him like a kitten, head nestled into the warmth of his shoulder. Holding him, the way only two people Seto could remember had ever held him; the little brother in his arms... and the one he'd left behind.

"It's okay, Seto," Mokuba whispered. "It'll be okay, you'll see..."

And never flinched, even when tears fell in dark hair.

* * *

  
Yugi stared out where Kaiba's plane had vanished in the sky, one hand absently touching his Puzzle.

Pain. Hurt. Longing.

Zipping up his jacket against a cool drizzle, Blair tried to shrug off the faint but unmistakable sensations whispering around the small teen. "Hey."

/...He's hurt.../ A soft whisper; Blair had to take a second look to be sure Yugi's lips weren't moving.

/...Couldn't hold him here, aibou./ A darker voice, confident but weary. /Mokuba will look after him, and the Blue Eyes.../

_Is that Yami?_ Blair's eyes widened. Involuntarily he looked back toward the airport parking lot holding Jim's truck and Solomon's small rental, gaze skimming to the bus-terminal style overhang where the rest had taken refuge. Ryou slouched almost in the rain, alternately concerned and amused. Solomon still looked disturbed, leaning against the clear wall as if someone had taken his worldview and given it a good shake. And Jim was standing near the older man, talking to him in low, confident tones.

_Go on_ , Jim mouthed at Blair. _Get him out of the rain._

_Easy for you to say, Jim._ Blair had read that multiples sometimes heard the alternate personalities "talk" to each other, but to hear it himself? Freaky. "Earth to Yugi? You in there?"

_Slam!_

"Ow, _man_..." Blair shook out his left hand, wincing. Blew on the offended tips, feeling like an idiot. Again. This time it felt even more real, even when he _knew_ there was no way his fingers had gotten caught in a stone door...

Saw the red on nails and fingertips, and swallowed. _So why are they bruised?_

"Gomen... sorry. I get distracted. I-" Yugi caught sight of his fingers. Small shoulders slumped. "Oh."

_Uh-huh._ Blair flexed his hand, raised a dark brow. "I'm going to assume you didn't do that on purpose."

Pink flamed over Yugi's cheekbones. "Ano... not exactly."

Blair waited. A few raindrops sneaked past his hood, turning curly hair to damp ringlets.

"Pegasus, he - it's a long story." Yugi drew a deep breath. "He could read minds, and trap souls. He took Grandpa's soul... and then he took Mokuba's."

_The creator of Duel Monsters was stealing souls. That innocent - okay,_ mostly _innocent little kid. And... my father. Man, oh man._ "So that's how you knew about wandering spirits." Blair tried to keep his voice calm. Tried not to imagine the terror of a parentless teenager left with the soulless body of the only family he knew. _Make that_ two _parentless teens. My god._ "Kaiba kicked his ass?"

"He tried," Yugi admitted. "But Pegasus read his mind. Read his cards. Seto fought him, but... he lost." Wide violet looked up at him. "And Pegasus trapped him, too."

_Oh shit._ No wonder an iceberg like Kaiba might feel indebted to a bright soul like Yugi. "So I'm guessing you took Pegasus on," Blair said slowly.

"It was the only chance they had." Yugi shrugged. "I saw him Duel Seto; how he always had the perfect move set up and waiting, no matter what Seto tried. I knew it was magic. And then he Dueled me, and we realized he really _was_ reading our minds." A shy smile touched his face. "So we figured out a way to use that against him."

Blair blinked. "Two personalities." _Holy cow. You turned that into an_ advantage?

"Two minds," Yugi confirmed, gaze warm as he touched the Puzzle. "I'd set a card, let Yami take over. Yami would play what we had, then call me out when he needed to spring a surprise. We just kept switching whenever Pegasus probed us. Which is... kind of why Yami slammed his door on you." Yugi huddled into his rain jacket, sheepish. "I don't know if you know what _you're_ doing, Dr. Sandburg, but when you... reach... like that, it feels like a mind probe. And we just - react. Sorry."

"Nobody's fault," Blair shrugged. Inwardly his mind reeled. _They switched? Voluntarily? Fast enough to play a game? How?_ "We'll just have to work on it. And call me Blair. Come on, let's get out of this wet."

"Well?" Jim asked in the truck a few minutes later, pulling out behind the rental loaded with the Japanese trio.

_Or should that be quintet?_ Blair thought, shaking his head. "There's a lot they're not telling us, Jim."

"No kidding." The sentinel concentrated on the wet road. "We've got a week to figure it out. If you want to."

Blair frowned, weaving his fingers together. "I think I do," he admitted. "Yugi's a good kid. A little confused...."

"Seventeen's confused." Jim snorted, easing them into a turn. "Add a multiple personality on top of that, and you've got real fun."

Blair hesitated. "I'm not sure Yami and Bakura are multiple personalities."

Jim slid a quick glance his way. "So what the hell are they?"

_He believes me_. Blair felt a rush of relief, unknotted his fingers. _Thank goodness._ "I don't know. Yet. They just don't fit the profile."

"But they don't know that," Jim concluded. "Think I'm going to have to have another talk with Solomon."

"What were you talking about?" Blair asked, leaning on the window. "He looked pretty upset."

Jim's lips curled into a wry smile. "Looks like your nephew needs physical contact just as much as you do, Chief. Kaiba read Solomon the riot act about not shunning the kid."

"Say _what?_ " And pigs were, without a doubt, flying straight south for the winter.

"He was clumsy about it," Jim acknowledged.

Blair shook his head, trying to fit this jarring fact into the mix. "Oh, man. Solomon said he was having a little trouble getting used to Yami, but...."

"If Kaiba can tell it's a mess, it must be really bad." Jim sighed quietly. "Blair. You don't owe them anything. Maybe you feel like you do. Maybe you would, if things had been different, if Naomi had stayed put or Mouto's family hadn't been a bunch of cold idiots. But Solomon came looking for _you_ , not the other way around. We don't have to get involved."

"Maybe not," Blair admitted after a long minute. "But... I like Yugi, Jim. And Ryou. They're _here_ , Jim. Now. I couldn't live with myself if I just let this chance slip away." He swallowed dryly. "And I want to know Yugi's Grandpa." He dredged up a smile. "Just keep me from doing anything stupid, okay?"

Blue eyes danced. "Now you want miracles."

"Hey!"

"Do my best, partner." Jim shrugged. "But if a dragon shows up on Main Street-"

"Jim!"

The sentinel's grin was all teeth. "- _You_ get to explain to the mayor."


End file.
